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The  Yosemite  Valley. 

See  p.  14. 


BANCROFT'S 


FIFTH  EEADEE. 


BY 

JOHN  SWETT, 

Principal  Girls'  High  and  Normal  School,  San  Francisco; 
Ex-State  Sup't  of  Public  Instruction,  California. 

CHAS.  H.  ALLEN, 

Principal  California  State  Normal  School. 

JOSIAH  ROYCE,  Ph.  D., 

Instructor  in  Philosophy  in  Harvard  College. 


SAN   FRANCISCO: 

A.  L.  BANCROFT  &  COMPANY. 


PREKACK 


In  this,  the  concluding  book  of  the  Series,  the  special  methods 
employed  in  the  Fourth  Eeader  have  been  continued  and  extended. 

The  attention  of  teachers  and  school  officers  is  especially  called 
to  the  following  features: 

1.  The  well-balanced  combination  of  instructive  and  entertaining 
literary  and  elocutionary  reading  matter  of  which  it  is  made  up. 

2.  The  high  literaiy  character  of  the  selections  from  standard 
writers,  well  adapted  to  pupils  in  the  grammar  grades. 

3.  The  portraits  of  eminent  authors  which  accompany  selections 
from  their  writings. 

4.  The  brief,  clear,  and  practical  statement  of  the  principles  of 
elocutionary  art  in  the  chapters  on  Vocal  Training,  and  the  variety 
and  quality  of  illustrative  exercises. 

5.  The  special  exercises  to  secure  good  articulation  and  correct 
pronunciation. 

6.  The  carefully  selected  lessons  in  oral  and  written  spelling, 
embracing  valuable  drills  on  synonyms. 

7.  The  suggestion  of  numerous  choice  selections  for  memorizing. 
The  publishers  acknowledge  the  courtesy  of  D.  Appleton  &  Co. 

and  G-.  P^J^utpam's  Sons,^  in  parnaitting  liberal  extracts  from  their 
copyi'ight  "v^pfjkgr.        ^  *.y  1  l/x  I    I 

The  sQlectious,£DDnj^UiQ  jvritings  ©f  .Longfellow,  Whittier,  Holmes, 
LowelVs**l&ii«i.^iJ^vd*  j'Jixl^/^^g/Trowbridge,  and  other  writers 
whose  works  they  publish,  are  used  by  permission  of  and  by  special 
arrangement  with  Messrs.  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 


Copyi'ight  by  A.  L.  Bancroft  &  Co.,  1883. 


FIFTH    READER. 


m 


coisnTENTrs 


,6- 

7. 

8. 

9. 
10. 
11. 
12. 

13. 
14. 
15. 
16. 
17. 

18. 
19. 
20. 
21. 
22. 
23. 

24. 
25. 
26. 
27. 
28. 
29. 
30. 


F'yN.RT    I. 

Henry  "Wadsworth  Longfellow 9 

The  Death  of  Longfellow      .         .        .     John  G.   IVhitticr  11 

The  Light  of  Stars         .         .        .        .    JT.  W.  Longfellow  12 

The  Yosemite  Valley John  Muir  14 

Scenery  of  Yosemite  Valley          .          Thomas  Starr  King  15 

I.  Vocal  Training. 

I.  Hints  to  Pupils 20 

II.  Hints  to  Teachers 20 

III.  Breathing  Exercises 21 

Elocution         .         .         .       Broolc's  Elocution  and  Beading  22 

"What  I  Live  For   . Banks  23 

Alfred  the  Great     .        .   Dickens's  ChikVs  Eist.  of  England  24 

The  First  Grenadier  of  France 25 

Polonius's  Advice  to  his  Son        .         William  Shakespeare  30 

The  Formation  of  Good  Habits 31 

The  Imaginary  Banquet         .         .         .         Arabian  Nights  34 

II.  Vocal  Training. — ^Emphasis 38 

On  Learning  Pieces  hy  Heart       .         .   Vernon  Lushington  40 

King  Out,  Wild  Bells     ....       Alfred  Tennyson  44 

Inventions  and  Inventors       • 45 

The  National  Clock        .         .        .          Thomas  Starr  King  48 

About  Ships 49 

III.  Vocal  Training. — Inflection  and  Emphasis      .  54 

Alfred  Tennyson 58 

Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade         .         .       Alfred  Tennyson  58 

Supplementary  Reading 60 

About  Rivers John  Tyndall  61 

Passages  from  Shakespeare 63 

Scrooge's  Christmas        .        .       Dickens's  Christmas  Carol  65 

IV.  Vocal  Training. — Rules  of  Inflection      .        .  67 

Sir  Walter  Scott 74 

The  Lady  of  the  Lake           .        .        .       Sir  Walter  Scott  76 

The  Farmer  and  the  Fox      .         .     From  Fronde's  Essays  80 

Discoverers  and  Explorers 82 

Not  One  to  Spare Mrs.  Beers  83 

Learning  to  Write          .        .        .       Edward  Everett  Hale  85 

Animal  Life  in  the  Ocean 86 

438861 


IV  FIFTH    READER. 

V.    Vocal  Training. 

I.  Rhetorical  Pauses    .        .        .        .     *  .        .92 

II.  Grammatical  Pauses         .....  92 

31.  The  Builders 97 

32.  Character  of  True  Eloquence 98 

33.  The  Crowded  Street       .         .         .     William  Cullen  Bryant  99 

34.  Benj.  Franklin's  Moral  Code 101 

35.  Mrs.  Caudle's  Lecture  on  Shopping     .       Douglas  Jerrold  102 

36.  Wouter  Van  T wilier      ....    Washington  Irving  103 

37.  The  Union Daniel  Webster  106 

38.  The  Seven  Ages  of  Man        .        .         William  Shakespeare  107 

39.  A  Famous  Sea-Fight 108 

40.  The  Settlement  of  California 109 

41.  Oliver  Goldsmith 112 

42.  The  Village  Preacher     .        .        .  Oliver  Goldsmith  114 

43.  Civilization 115 

44.  Superstitious  Beliefs      .        .        .,     Adapted,  from  Clodd  117 

45.  Myths  about  Eclipses 118 

46.  Rhyme  of  the  Rail John  G.  Saxe  119 

47.  Liberty  of  the  Press      ....     Col.  E.  D.  Baker  121 

48.  Education  in  the  United  States    .        .         Daniel  Webster  122 

49.  Hints  about  Letter  Writing 123 

50.  St.  Augustine's  Ladder  .        .        .    H.  W.  Longfellow  125 

51.  Julius  Caesar James  A,  Fronde  127 

52.  Transposition  of  Poetry  into  Prose      .....  130 

53.  Washington  Irving 132 

54.  Midnight  Adventure  of  Ichabod  Crane      Washington  Irving  134 

55.  Arnold  Winkelried  .         .         .           James  Montgomery  139 

56.  Esquimau  Dog  Teams             141 

57.  Greece Lord  Byron  145 

58.  Economy  of  Time 146 

59.  Thanatopsis William  Cullen  Bryant  149 

60.  Rienzi  to  the  Romans    .        .         .      Mary  Bussell  Mitford  151 

61.  London 153 

62.  Bernardo  Bel  Carpio      .        .        .        Mrs.  F.  D.  Hemans  156 

63.  Glaciers 159 

64.  The  Glove  and  the  Lions      ....       Leigh  Hunt  162 

65.  The  Clansman's  Revenge       .        .        .        Charles  Mackay  164 

66.  School-Master  Jacob's  Scrap-Books    Mrs.  Annie  A.  Preston  167 

67.  What  Constitutes  a  State      .        .        .     Sir  William  Jones  170 

68.  The  Voices  of  the  Dead        ....   Orville  Dewey  170 

69.  Completion  of  the  Bunker  Hill  Monument     Daniel  Webster  172 

70.  Evening R.   W.  Longfelloio  173 


FIFTH    READER.  V 

71.  Labor Orville  Dewei/  174 

72.  Supplementary  Selections      .        .         .        .        .         .        .  175 

Phonic  or  Diacritical  Marks 176 

Table  of  Elementary  Sounds 177 

Classification  of  the  Consonant  Sounds        .        .  178 


F*ART     II. 

1.  William  Shakespeare 181 

2.  The  Funeral  of  Julius  CsBsar        .         William  Shakespeare  183 

3.  Good  Reading John  S.  Hart  192 

I.    Vocal  Training.— Movement,  Rate,  or  Time        .  193 

4.  John  Greenleaf  Whittier 196 

5.  Skipper  Ireson's  Ride     ....      John  G.  Whittier  198 

n.    Vocal  Training.— Force  of  Voice        .        .        .202 

6.  The  Bee  Pastures  of  California.    Part  I.            John  Miiir  206 

7.  The  Bee  Pastures  of  California.     Part  II.           John  Midr  209 

III.  Vocal  Training.— The  Reading  of  Poetry       .  213 

8.  Modulation  of  the  Voice Lloyd  214 

9.  Battle  of  Waterloo                  ....      Lord  Byron  215 

10.  Faithless  Nelly  Gray      ....           Thomas  Hood  217 

IV.  Vocal  Training. — Stress 219 

11.  The  Arsenal H.  W.  Lmujfcllow  223 

12.  Mrs.  Caudle  on  Umbrellas     .         .        .        Douglas  Jcrrold  225 

13.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes 228 

14.  Manners        From  Holmes's  Professor  at  the  Breakfast- Table  229 

15.  The  Chambered  Nautilus       .        .      Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  230 

16.  Good  News Robert  Broioning  232 

17.  The  Reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth 

Dickens's  Child's  History  of  England  234 

18.  The  White-Headed  Eagle      .         .        .      Alexander  Wilson  235 

19.  Santa  Filomena      .        .         .         .         .    H.  W.  Longfellow  237 

20.  The  Fourth  of  July        ....          Daniel  Webster  238 

21.  Dogs  and  Masters Grant  Allen  240 

22.  Orient  Yourself Horace  Mann  243 

23.  Charles  Dickens 245 

24.  A  School  of  Facts          ....        Charles  Dickens  247 

V.  Vocal  Training.— Pitch,  or  E[£Y  .        .        .        .252 

25.  The  Coyote      .        .        .        .  S.  L.  Clemens  (Mark  Twain)  258 

26.  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner       .  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  260 

27.  Washington's  Birthday  ....         Daniel  Webster  262 

28.  The  Shipwreck Charles  Dickens  263 

VI.  Vocal  Training.— Quality  of  Voice  .        .        .  268 


VI 


FIFTH    READER. 


29. 
30. 
31. 
32. 
33. 
34. 
35. 
36. 
37. 

38. 
39. 
40. 
41. 
42. 
43. 
44. 
45. 
46. 


47. 

48. 

49. 
50. 
51. 
52. 
53. 
54. 
55. 
56. 
57. 
58. 
59. 
60. 


Apostrophe  to  the  Ocean       ....      Loi'd  Byron 

William  Cullen  Bryant 

The  Winds      . 

To  a  Water-Fowl   . 

Advice  to  Boys 

Ode  on  the  Passions 

Poetry 

In  Favor  of  Liberty 

The  Constitution  and  Union 

VII.    Vocal  Training. — Pronunciation 

John  Milton 296 

Invocation  of  Mirth  (L' Allegro)    .         .         .      John  Milton    297 
Morning  Hymn        .         .     From  Milton^ s  ^^  Paradise  Lost" 


William  Cullen  Bryant 

William  Cullen  Bryant 

Professor  Huxley 

William  Collins 

Percy  B.  Shelley 

Patrick  Henry 

Daniel  Webster 


273 
275 
276 
278 
280 
283 
286 
288 
291 
292 


Books 

Cricket  on  the  Hearth 

Brutus  and  Cassius 

Astrology 

Ealph  Waldo  Emerson 


William  Ellery  Channing 

Charles  Diclcens 

William  Shakespeare 

Adapted,  from  Clodd 


299 
300 
301 
304 
308 
309 
311 


Behavior  .        .       From  Fmet'son's  ^'Conduct  of  Life" 

VIII.    Vocal  Training. 

I.  Articulation 313 

II.  Orthoepy 314 

III.  Pronunciation 315 

Elegy  Written  in  a  Country  Church-Yard      Thomas  Gray  316 

The  Astronomer's  Vision 

Paraphrased  from  the  German,  by  Prof.  0.  M.  Mitchell  323 

In  Favor  of  Independence     .        .        .         Daniel  Webster  325 

Fitz-James  and  Roderick  Dhu      .         .       Sir  Walter  Scott  329 

The  American  Flag        .        .        .     Joseph  Rodman  Drake  335 

The  Constitution Daniel  Webster  337 

Spartacus  to  the  Gladiators  .        .        .        E.  Kellogg  338 

For  A'  That,  and  A'  That    ....    Robert  Burns  340 

Tribute  to  Eobert  Burns       .        .        .      John  G.  WliitUer  342 

James  Russell  Lowell 343 

The  First  Snow-Fall      ....      James  R.  Loivell  344 

Old  Church  Bells James  R.  Loivell  345 

Crusader  and  Saracen    ....       Sir  Walter  Scott  347 

Supplementary  Reading         .„<,....  352 


PART  I. 


1.     HENRY   WADS  WORTH    LONGFELLOW. 


1.  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow  was  born  in  Port- 
land, Maine,  in  1807,  and  died  in  Cambridge,  Mass.,  in 
1882,  in  the  old  historic  mansion  which  was  Washington's 
headquarters  during  the  siege  of  Boston.  He  was  Pro- 
fessor of  Modern  Languages  and  Literature  in  Bowdoin 
College,  and,  in  1835,  became  Professor  of  Modern  Lan- 
guages and  Belles  Lettres  in  Harvard  University,  which 
position  he  held  for  fourteen  years. 

2.  He  had  a  pure,  noble,  and  serene  nature,  and  a 
warm  and  tender  heart.  He  was  an  accomplished  scholar, 
intimately  acquainted  with  the  languages  and  literatures 
of  continental  Europe.  He  was  exquisitely  sensitive  to 
the  beautiful;  he  looked  at  every  aspect  of  nature  with 

[5-9] 


10/,  \  \'l\',\:'\\^  J     ^IF.TH  .READER. 

a  painter's  eye,  and  may  be  said  to  have  used  colors 
with  his  pen.  He  wrote  in  many  different  meters,  and 
was  a  master  of  melodious  versification. 

3.  Some  of  his  poems  prove  that  he  was  by  no  means 
wanting  in  strength  and  fire,  but  the  tender,  soothing, 
elevating  character  of  his  poetry  generally,  entitles  him 
to  be  caUed  the  poet  of  the  affections.  He  has  breathed 
consolation  into  many  aflicted  hearts,  and  has  not  only 
charmed  the  ear,  but  has  touched  the  heart  of  the  world. 
No  poet  in  the  English  language  has  been  more  popular 
and  beloved  than  Longfellow. 

4.  In  England,  it  has  been  decided,  as  a  fitting  tribute 
to  "a  graceful  and  tender  poet,"  to  place  his  bust  in  the 
Poets'  Corner,  in  Westminster  Abbey.  Among  his  minor 
poems  are:  "Children,''  "The  Children's  Hour,"  "Maid- 
enhood," "Resignation,"  "The  Flowers,"  "Paul  Revere's 
Ride,"  "The  Arsenal  at  Springfield,"  and  "The  Build- 
ing of  the  Ship." 

5.  Among  other  poems  that  are  attractive  to  young 
people  are  the  following:  "Evangeline,"  a  story  of  the 
cruel  expulsion  by  the  English  of  the  Acadians,  from 
their  home  in  Nova  Scotia;  "The  Courtship  of  Miles 
Standish,"  a  charming  picture  of  Pilgrim  times  in  Plym- 
outh; "Tales  of  a  Wayside  Inn,"  and  "The  Hanging  of 
the  Crane." 

6.  Of  Longfellow's  style,  George  William  Curtis  says: 
"  While  the  magnetism  of  Longfellow's  touch  lies  in  the 
broad  humanity  of  his  sympathy,  which  leads  him  neither 
to  mysticism  nor  cynicism,  and  which  commends  his 
poetry  to  the  universal  heart,  his  artistic  sense  is  so 
exquisite  that  each  of  his  poems  is  a  valuable  literary 
study.  In  these,  he  reached  a  perfection  quite  unrivaled 
among  living  poets,  except,  sometimes,  by  Tennyson. 
His  literary  scholarship,  also  his  delightful  familiarity 
with  the  pure  literature  of  aU  languages  and  times, 
must  rank  Longfellow  among  the  learned  poets." 


FIFTH    READER.  11 


2.     THE   DEATH   OF   LONG-FELLOW. 

1.  With  a  glory  of  winter  sunshine 

Over  his  locks  of  gray, 
In  the  old  historic  mansion, 
He  sat  on  his  last  birthday; 

2.  With  his  books  and  his  pleasant  pictures, 

And  his  household  and  his  kin. 
While  a  sound  as  of  m^T-iads  singing, 
From  far  and  near  stole  in. 

3.  It  came  from  his  own  fair  city. 

From  the  prairie's  boundless  plain, 
From  the  Golden  Grate  of  sunset. 
And  the  cedar  woods  of  Maine. 

4.  And  his  heart  grew  warm  within  him. 

And  his  moistening  eyes  grew  dim. 
For  he  knew  that  his  country's  children 
Were  singing  songs  of  him. 

5.  The  lays  of  his  life's  glad  morning. 

The  psalms  of  his  evening  time. 
Whose  echoes  shall  float  forever 
On  the  winds  of  every  clime — 

6.  All  their  beautiful  consolations. 

Sent  forth  like  birds  of  cheer. 
Came  flocking  back  to  his  windows, 
And  sang  in  the  poet's  ear. 

7.  Grateful,  but   solemn  and  tender, 

The  music  rose  and  fell. 
With  a  joy  akin  to  sadness. 
And  a  greeting  like  a  fareweU, 


12  FIFTH    READER. 

8.  With  a  sense  of  awe^  he  listened 

To  the  voices,  sweet  and  yonng; 
The  last  of  earth  and  the  first  of  heaven, 
Seemed  in  the  songs  they  sung. 

9.  And  waiting  a  little  longer 

For  the  wonderful  change  to  come, 
He  heard  the  summoning  angel 
Who  calls  God's  children  home. 

10.    And  to  him,  in  a  holier  welcome, 
Was  the  mystical  meaning  given 
Of  the  words  of  the  blessed  Master: 
"Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

John  G.  Whittiek. 


3.     THE   LIGHT   OF   STARS. 

1.  The  night  is  come,  but  not  too  soon; 

And  sinking  silently. 
All  silently,  the  little  moon 
Drops  down  behind  the  sky. 

2.  There  is  no  light  in  earth  or  heaven 

But  the  cold  hght  of  stars; 
And  the  first  watch  of  night  is  given 
To  the  red  planet  Mars. 

3.  Is  it  the  tender  star  of  love? 

The  star  of  love  and  dreams? 
O  no!  from  that  blue  tent  above, 
A  hero's  armor  gleams. 

4.  And  earnest  thoughts  within  me  rise, 

When  I  behold  afar, 


FIFTH    READER.  13 

Suspended  in  the  evening  skies, 
The  shield  of  that  red  star. 

5.  O  star  of  strength!   I  see  thee  stand 

And  smile  upon  my  pain; 
Thou  beckonest  with  thy  mailed  hand, 
And  I  am  strong  again. 

6.  Within  my  breast  there  is  no  light 

But  the  cold  light  of  stars; 
I  give  the  first  watch  of  the  night 
To  the  red  planet  Mars. 

7.  The  star  of  the  unconquered  wiU, 

He  rises  in  my  breast, 
Serene,  and  resolute,  and  stiH, 
And  calm,  and  self-possessed. 

8.  And  thou,  too,  whosoe'r  thou  art, 

That  readest  this  brief  psalm. 
As  one  by  one  thy  hopes  depart, 
Be  resolute  and  calm. 

9.  O  fear  not  in  a  world  like  this, 

And  thou  shalt  know  erelong. 
Know  how  sublime  a  thing  it  is 
To  suffer  and  be  strong. 

Longfellow. 


1 

WRITTEN    SPEIXrXG.     WORDS    OFTEN   MISSPEIXED. 

Stiidij  this  lesson  ht/  icriting 

it  on  slates.     Divide  into  syllables, 

mark  the  accented  syllahlc,  and 

use  diacritical  marks.     If  necessary, 

refer  to  the  dictionary. 

domicile           peril 

utensil               velocity 

daffodil             dactyl 

projectile           verbosity 

fossil                 fragile 

atrocity              necessity 

14  FIFTH    BEADEE. 


4.     THE   YOSEMITE   VALLEY. 

1.  The  Yosemite  Valley  is  situated  in  the  middle 
region  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains,  on  the  Merced 
River.  It  is  about  seven  miles  long,  with  an  average 
width  of  a  mile  and  a  half. 

2.  The  elevation  of  the  floor  of  the  valley  above  the 
level  of  the  sea  is  four  thousand  feet.  The  walls  average 
three  thousand  feet  in  height,  and  are  made  up  of  a 
series  of  stupendous  granite  rocks,  varying  greatly  in 
form  and  size,  and  partially  separated  from  one  another 
by  deep  side-gorges. 

3.  The  bottom  of  the  valley  is  remarkably  smooth 
and  level,  but  the  walls  are  angular  and  bare.  The 
meadows  and  sandy  flats  support  a  luxuriant  growth  of 
sedges,  ferns,  and  thickets  of  azalea,  ceanothus,  and  brier- 
rose.  Near  the  foot  of  the  walls  there  are  magnificent 
groves  of  live-oaks  and  pines.  The  openings  between 
these  are  enlivened  with  countless  flowers,  such  as  asters, 
golden-rods,  lilies,  mints,  and  violets,  growing  in  beds 
and  bunches. 

4.  Fine  streams,  fed  by  mountain  snows,  come  foaming 
down  over  the  rocks  into  the  vaUey,  and  unite  to  form 
the  Merced  River.  In  leaping  the  lofty  walls,  they  give 
rise  to  some  of  the  grandest  water-falls  in  the  world. 
The  highest  of  these,  known  as  the  Yosemite  FaUs,  has 
a  descent  of  two  thousand  six  hiindred  feet. 

5.  When  the  Yosemite  was  discovered,  it  was  supposed 
to  be  the  only  valley  of  the  kind;  but  nature  is  not  so 
poor  as  to  possess  only  one  of  any  thing.  When,  there- 
fore, we  explore  the  adjacent  mountains,  we  find  many 
other  "Yosemite  Valleys,"  identical  in  general  character- 
istics, each  presenting,  on  a  varying  scale,  the  same  kind 
of  mural  precipices,  level  meadows,  and  lofty  water-falls. 

6.  The  Merced  Yosemite  was  created  by  the  action  of 


FIFTH    READER.  15 

five  immense  glaciers,  traces  of  which  still  exist  upon 
every  rock  in  the  valley.  When  we  f oUow  their  retiring 
footsteps  into  the  highest  summits  of  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
we  find  some  of  these  glaciers  still  alive,  lingering 
beneath  cool  shadows,  and  silently  completing  the  sculp- 
ture of  the  lofty  peaks. 

John  Mviu. 
DEFINITIONS. 


mu'ral,  pertaining  to  a  wall. 
a  za'le  a,  a  flowering  shrub  of  the 

lieath  family. 
gor'ges,  canyons. 
ce  a  nc/thus,  California  lilac. 
i  den'ti  cal,  the  same. 


glacier,  (gWsecr,  or  glas'i  cr),  an 
immense  mass  of  ice,  or  snow 
and  ice,  formed  in  the  region 
of  perpetual  snow,  and  moving 
slowly  down  mountain  slopes 
or  valleys. 


Composition.  Close  the  books,  and  write  all  you  can  remember  of  this 
description.  Exchange  papers,  and  read  one  aaother's  compositions  to  the 
dass. 

Supplementary.  Turn  to  your  school  geography,  find,  on  the  map,  the 
situation  of  the  Tosemite  Valley,  and  read  the  description  given  in  the 
special  state  geography. 


5.     SCENERY   OF   YOSEMITE   VALLEY. 

1.  A  fresh  impression  of  the  marvels  of  nature  always 
awakens  a  religious  emotion.  I  thought  of  this  more 
seriously  than  ever  before,  when,  about  two  weeks  ago, 
I  first  looked  down  from  the  Mariposa  trail  into  the 
tremendous  fissure  of  the  Sierras.  The  place  is  fitly  called 
^'Inspiration  Point."  The  shock  to  the  senses  there,  as 
one  rides  out  from  the  level  and  sheltered  forest,  up  to 
which  our  horses  had  been  climbing  two  days,  is  scarcely 
less  than  if  he  had  been  instantly  borne  to  a  region  where 
the  Creator  reveals  more  of  himself  in  his  works  than 
can  be  learned  from  the  ordinary  scenery  of  this  world. 

2.  We  stood,  almost  without  warning,  on  the  summit 
of  the   southerly  wall  of  the  valley,  and  obtained  our 


16  FIFTH   READER. 

first  impression  of  its  depth  and  grandeur  by  looking 
down.  A  vast  trench,  cloven  by  Omnipotence  amid  a 
tumult  of  mountains,  yawned  beneath  us.  The  length 
of  it  was  seven  or  eight  miles;  the  sides  of  it  were  bare 
rock,  and  they  were  perpendicular.  They  did  not  flow  or 
subside  to  the  valley  in  charming  curve-lines,  such  as 
I  have  seen  in  the  wildest  passes  of  the  New  England 
mountains.  The  walls  were  firm  and  sheer.  A  man 
could  have  found  places  where  he  could  have  jumped 
three  thousand  feet  in  one  descent  to  the  valley. 

3.  More  than  a  thousand  feet  beneath  us  was  the 
arching  head  of  a  water-fall,  that  leaped  another  thousand 
before  its  widening  spray  shattered  itself  into  finer  mists 
in  a  rocky  dell.  The  roar  of  it,  at  our  elevation,  was 
a  slight  murmur.  On  the  wall  opposite,  about  a  mile 
across  the  gulf,  a  brook  was  pouring  itseE  to  the  vaUey. 
Although  it  was  slipping  down  more  than  haK  a  mile  of 
undisturbed  depth,  it  appeared  to  be  creeping  at  its  own 
will  and  leisure.  We  could  not  believe  that  the  awful 
force  of  gravitation  was  controlling  it. 

''But  like  a  downward  smoke,  tlie  slender  stream 
Along  the  clifE  to  fall,  and  pause,  and  fall,  did  seem." 

Noble  trees  of  two  hundred  feet  stature,  by  the  river- 
side below,  were  tiny  shrubs.  The  river  itself  lay  like 
a  bow  of  glass  upon  the  curved  green  meadow  which 
nestled  so  peacefully  under  the  shadow  of  the  Egyptian 
walls.  And  off  from  the  northernmost  cliff,  retreating 
a  mile  or  two  from  it,  soared  a  bare,  wedge-Hke  summit 
of  one  of  the  Sierras — ashy  in  hue,  springing  above  a 
vast  field  of  snow  which  could  not  cling  to  its  steep 
smoothness,  but  lay  quietly  melting  to  feed  the  foam 
and  music  of  a  cataract. 

4.  So  far  as  we  know,  the  Yosemite  Valley  offers  the 
most  stupendous  specimens  of  natural  masonry  to  be 
seen  on  our  globe.  Switzerland  has  no  gorge  that  com- 
pares with  it.     The  desolate  and  splintered  walls  of  Sinai 


FIFTH    READER.  17 

and  Horeb  are  not  a  qnarter  so  high.  No  explored 
district  of  the  highest  Andes  displays  such  masses  of 
clean,  abrupt  rock. 

5.  The  Himalayas  alone  can  furnish  competitors  for 
its  falls  and  turrets,  if  any  portion  of  the  earth  can. 
We  often  read,  in  accounts  of  mountain  districts  or 
mountain-climbing,  about  precipices  that  are  thousands 
of  feet  in  descent,  or  of  cliffs  that  spring  naked  and  sheer 
to  an  equal  height.  The  statements,  however,  are  almost 
always  extravagant  exaggerations. 

6.  But  in  the  Yosemite,  a  man  may  ride  close  to  a 
crag,  whose  summit,  as  he  holds  his  head  back  to  discern 
it,  is  more  than  three  thousand  feet  above  him.  He 
may  stand  in  the  spray  of  a  water-fall  and  see,  forty-three 
hundred  feet  over  his  head,  the  edge  of  a  mountain  wall 
that  shields  the  water  from  the  early  afternoon  sun.  He 
may  look  up  to  a  tower,  which  resembles  an  incomplete 
spire  of  a  Gothic  minster,  and  see  its  broken  edges, 
softened  by  more  than  three  quarters  of  a  mile  of 
distance,  directly  above  his  eyes. 

7.  He  may  sit  at  an  evening,  when  the  sun  has 
retreated  from  every  portion  of  the  valley,  and  look  at 
the  "South  Dome,"  a  vast  globe  of  bold  rock  almost  a 
full  mile  in  height,  while  the  sunset  is  sheathing  it  with 
impalpable  gold.  Or  he  may  lie,  at  noon,  beneath  a 
tree  at  the  base  of  one  wall  of  the  valley,  and  allow  his 
eye  to  wander  up  at  leisure  the  magnificent  battlement 
caUed  "El  Capitan." 

8.  It  is  not  so  high  as  some  of  the  others  I  have 
named,  for  it  is  a  little  less  than  four  thousand  feet. 
But  there  is  not  a  crevice  in  it  where  any  thing  green 
can  lodge  and  grow.  There  is  no  mark  or  hue  of  strati- 
fication. There  is  no  crack  in  its  huge  mass.  It  is  one 
piece  of  solid,  savage  granite. 

9.  But  what  words  shall  describe  the  beauty  of  one 
of  the  water-faUs,  as  we  see  it  plunging  from  the  brow 


18  FIFTH    READER. 

of  a  cliff  nearly  three  thousand  feet  high,  and  clearing 
fifteen  hundred  feet  in  one  leapf  It  is  comparatively 
narrow  at  the  top  of  the  precipice  5  but  it  widens  as  it 
descends,  and  curves  a  little  as  it  widens,  so  that  it  shapes 
itseK,  before  it  reaches  its  first  bowl  of  granite,  into  the 
charming  figure  of  the  comet  that  glowed  on  our  sky 
some  years  ago.  But  more  beautiful  than  the  comet,  you 
can  see  the  substance  of  this  watery  loveliness  ever  renew 
itself,  and  ever  pour  itself  away. 

10.  And  all  over  its  white  and  swajrLng  mistiness,  which 
now  and  then  swings  along  the  mountain  side,  at  the 
persuasion  of  the  wind,  hke  a  pendulum  of  lace,  and  now 
and  then  is  whirled  round  and  round  by  some  eddying 
breeze  as  though  the  gust  meant  to  see  if  it  could  >vi'ing 
it  dry; — all  over  its  surface,  as  it  falls,  are  shooting 
rockets  of  water  which  spend  themselves  by  the  time  they 
half  reach  the  bottom,  and  then  re-form,  for  the  remaining 
descent — thus  fascinating  the  gazer  so  that  he  could 
lie  for  hours  never  tired,  but  ever  hungry  for  more  of 
the  exquisite  witchery  of  hquid  motion  and  grace. 

11.  How  httle  we  see  of  nature !  How  utterly  powerless 
are  our  senses  to  take  any  measure  or  impression  of  the 
actual  grandeur  of  what  we  do  see!  Think  of  being 
moved  rehgiously  by  looking  at  a  pinnacle  or  bluff  four 
thousand  feet  high,  and  then  think  what  the  earth 
contains  which  might  move  us ! 

12.  What  if  one  of  the  Himalayas  could  be  cloven 
from  its  topmost  tile  of  ice  to  its  torrid  base,  so  that 
we  could  look  up  a  sheer  wall  of  twenty-eight  thousand 
feet — the  equator  at  the  bottom,  and  at  the  apex  per- 
petual polar  frost !  And  then  think  that  the  loftiest 
Himalaya  is   only   a   slight   excrescence   on  the  planet. 

13.  What  if  we  could  have  a  vision,  for  a  moment, 
of  the  earth's  diameter,  from  a  point  where  we  could 
look  each  way  along  all  its  strata  and  its  core  of  fire, 
in  lines  each  four  thousand  miles  in  their  stretch !     And 


FIFTH    READER. 


19 


then,  remember,  that  this  is  nothing — this  is  not  a  unit- 
inch  towards  measuring  the  diameter  of  the  Earth's 
orbit,  and  that  Earth  and  orbit  both  are  invisible  and 
undreamed  of  fi-om  the  Pole  Star  or  Sirius,  which  is  the 
apex  of  a  reach  of  space  that  we  can  write  in  figures, 
but  which  we  could  not  have  counted  off  yet,  if  we  had 
begun  six  thousand  years  ago,  and  given  each  second 
to  a  mile! 

14.  Or  what  if  we  could  turn  from  delight  at  seeing 
a  water-fall  of  fifteen  hundred  feet,  which  looks  like  the 
tail  of  a  comet,  and  could  get  a  sensuous  impression  of 
the  actual  trail  of  that  light  upon  the  sky,  a  cataract  of 
luminous  spray,  steady  and  true,  a  hundred  and  twenty 
millions  of  miles  in  extent — more  than  the  distance 
between  us  and  the  sun!  And  yet  this  is  but  one  spot 
upon  the  dark  immensity! 


TuoHAS  Stare  Kino. 


DEFINITIONS. 


mar'vels,  wonders. 

fis'sure,  chasm. 

sheer,  perpendicular. 

"Egyptian  walls,"  massive,  huge 
Avails. 

stu  pen'^dous,  astonishing ;  amaz- 
ing. 

Eeference.  Find  out  something  about  Mount  Sinai  and  Mount  Horeb; 
the  Himalayas;  the  Andes.  Turn  to  your  geographies  and  find  their  situa- 
tion, and  that  of  the  Merced  Biver. 


minister,  the  church  of  a  monas- 
tery; or  a  cathedral  church. 

ex  cres^cence,  outgrowth. 

lu''min  ous,  light-giving. 

im  pal'pa  ble,  fine ;  not  capable  of 
being  perceived  by  the  touch. 


WRITTEN 

SPELLING.- 

-WORDS    OFTEN 

MISSPELLED. 

scythe 

clique 

hen 

quoit 

phlegm 

basque 

lily 

which 

phlox 

sphinx 

thief 

twelfth 

siege 

pique 

eighth 

yacht 

seize 

plague 

drought 

rhythm 

sieve 

gauge 

tongue 

through 

20  FIFTH    READER, 


I.     VOCAL    TRAINING 

I.      HINTS    TO    PUPrLS. 

I.  Stand  when  you  read,  and  hold  your  book  in  the 
left  hand,  high  enough  to  bring  the  head  erect. 

II.  Read  clearly  and  distinctly,  and  loud  enough  to 
be  heard  by  every  member  of  the  class. 

III.  Form  the  habit  of  taking  frequent  partial  in- 
halations, at  rhetorical  and  grammatical  pauses,  in  order 
to  keep  the  lungs  well  filled  with  air. 

IV.  Think  about  the  meaning  of  what  you  read,  and 
enter  into  the  spirit  of  it.  Be  in  earnest,  and  do  your 
best. 

V.  When  you  are  reading  over  an  advance  lesson, 
refer  to  the  dictionary  for  the  definition  of  any  word 
you  do  not  fully  understand. 

VI.  If  you  are  uncertain  about  the  pronunciation  of 
any  word,  refer  to  the  dictionary. 

VII.  After  the  class  drill  at  school,  read  the  lesson 
aloud  at  home,  by  yourself,  or  to  your  parents.  You 
can  become  a  good  reader  only  by  long-continued  prac- 
tice. 

VIII.  Listen  attentively  to  the  reading  of  your  teacher, 
and  of  the  best  scholars  in  your  class. 

IX.  Train  yourself  to  the  habit  of  occasionally  raising 
your  eyes  from  the  book  for  the  purpose  of  looking  at 
the  class,  or  teacher,  to  whom  you  are  reading. 

II.      HINTS    TO     TEACHERS. 

I.  It  is  essential  that  pupils  should  understand  what 
they  read;  but,  in  addition  to  comprehending  the  mean- 
ing, it  is  desirable  that  they  should  acquire  the  art  of 
appropriate  expression.  Hence  the  importance  of  thorough 
drill  on  the  succeeding  lessons  in  vocal  training. 


FIFTH    READER.  21 

n.  Teachers  in  charge  of  the  large  classes  in  graded 
schools  will  find  it  necessary  to  have  most  drill  exercises 
in  concert;  those  who  are  teaching  small  classes  in  un- 
graded schools,  can  find  more  time  for  training  pupils 
individually. 

III.  Insist  upon  it  that  pupils  shall  acquire  the  habit 
of  raising  their  eyes  from  the  book  toward  the  end  of 
each  sentence,  and  looking  at  the  teacher,  or  the  class. 

ly.  The  Memory  Exercises  are  of  essential  importance. 
If  you  cannot  find  time  to  hear  pupils  recite  or  declaim 
individually,  let  the  class  recite  or  declaim  in  concert. 

in.      BREATHING    EXERCISES. 

Concert  drill  in  articulation,  phonic  spelling,  and  concert  reading 
should  sometimes  he  preceded  hij  short  exercises  in  breathing.  The 
length  of  time  in  inhaling,  or  exhaling,  may  he  regulated  hy  the  rise  and 
fall  of  the  teacher's  hand. 

I.  Inhale  slowly  through  the  nearly  closed  lips,  and 
exhale  through  the  nostrils.  Time,  five  seconds  in 
inlialing,  and  the  same  in  exhaling.  Repeat  five  times. 
In  inhaling,  fill  the  lower  part  of  the  lungs,  and  do  not 
elevate  the  shoulders. 

II.  The  same  exercise  as  above,  prolonging  the  time 
to  ten  seconds. 

III.  Inhale;  exhale  slowly,  giving  the  sound  of  long 
e;  then  of  the  Italian  a;  then  of  long  oo. 

IV.  Inhale;  exhale,  giving  the  sound  of  long  o,  pro- 
longed for  five  seconds;  then  ten  seconds;  then  as  long 
as  possible. 

V.  Inhale;  repeat,  until  the  breath  is  exhausted,  the 
long  vowels:  a,  e,  i,  o,  u. 

VI.  Inhale;  count  from  one  to  ten  with  one  breath; 
then  from  one  to  twenty;  then  from  one  to  thirty,  etc. 

VII.  The  same  exercise,  counting  in  a  soft  wliisper. 

VIII.  Inhale;  throw  the  breath  out  suddenly  with 
the  explosive  sound — ha;  repeat  five  times;  ten  times. 


22  FIFTH    HEADER. 


6.     ELOCUTION. 


1.  Elocution  is  tlie  art  of  vocal  delivery.  It  is  the 
art  of  giving  correct,  elegant,  and  impressive  oral  expres^ 
sion  to  thought  and  sentiment.  Elocution  is  a  fine  art, 
like  music  and  painting.  Its  object,  like  that  of  the 
other  fine  arts,  is  to  express  the  beautiful  and  touch  the 
heart.  SkiU  in  elocution  should  therefore  be  prized  as 
a  valuable  accomplishment.  The  recitation  of  some 
beautiful  poem,  or  the  reading  of  a  choice  selection,  can 
be  made  as  attractive  in  society  as  singing,  or  as  play- 
ing the  piano. 

2.  Elocution  is  also  a  useful  as  well  as  a  beautiful 
art.  A  well-trained  voice  and  an  impressive  expression 
give  influence  and  success.  The  manner  of  saying  things 
often  makes  a  deeper  impression  than  the  thing  that  is 
said.  We  render  ourselves  agreeable  in  social  life,  and 
increase  our  power,  by  an  attractive  and  pleasing  man- 
ner of  expression.  Even  business  success  depends  largely 
upon  a  person's  address;  and  eminence  in  public  life  is 
to  a  great  degree  the  result  of  a  clear  and  forcible 
expression  of  thought. 

3.  Elocution  can  be  taught  as  weU  as  the  arts  of 
music  and  painting.  A  thorough  course  in  vocal  culture 
and  the  art  of  expression  will  do  as  much  for  the  reader 
as  a  course  of  training  does  for  the  singer.  The  human 
voice,  in  the  hands  of  a  master,  may  be  made  to  attain 
a  wondrous  strength  and  richness  of  tone;  and  the  art 
of  artistic  and  elegant  expression  may  be  taught  and 
acquired.  Natural  talent  and  genius  tell  here,  as  they 
do  in  the  other  arts;  but  nearly  all  the  high  attain- 
ments in  delivery  are  the  result  of  natural  powers 
carefully  and  sedulously  trained.  The  cultivation  of 
this  delightful  and  beautiful  art  of  reading  should, 
therefore,  be  recognized  as  a  part  of  a  liberal  education. 

Bbook's  Elocution  and  Heading. 


FIFTH    READER.  23 


7.     WHAT   I   LIVE   FOR. 

liequire  pupils  to  memorize  this  poem  for  recitation, 

1.  I  live  for  those  who  love  me, 

Whose  hearts  are  kind  and  true, 
For  the  Heaven  that  smiles  above  me. 

And  awaits  my  spirit  too; 
For  the  human  ties  that  bind  me, 
For  the  task  by  God  assigned  me, 
For  the  bright  hopes  left  behind  me, 

And  the  good  that  I  can  do. 

2.  I  live  to  learn  their  story, 

Who  suffered  for  my  sake. 
To  emulate  their  glory. 

And  follow  in  their  wake; 
Bards,  poets,  martyrs,  sages, 
The  noble  of  all  ages. 
Whose  deeds  crown  history's  pages 

And  Time's  great  volume  make. 

3.  I  hve  to  hold  communion 

With  all  that  is  divine; 
To  know  there  is  a  union 

'Twixt  Nature's  God  and  mine; 
To  grow  wiser  from  conviction. 
To  profit  by  affliction, 
Reap  truths  from  fields  of  fiction, 

And  fidfill  eacli  bright  design. 

4.  I  live  to  hail  that  season. 

By  gifted  minds  foretold. 
When  men  shall  Uve  by  reason, 
And  not  alone  by  gold; 


24  FIFTH    READER. 

When  man  to  man  united, 
And  every  wrong  thing  righted. 
The  whole  world  shall  be  hghted, 
As  Eden  was  of  old. 

5.    I  live  for  those  who  love  me, 

For  the  hearts  that  love  me  trne, 
For  the  Heaven  that  smiles  above  me, 

And  awaits  my  spirit  too  5 
For  the  right  that  lacks  assistance, 
For  the  wrong  that  needs  resistance, 
For  the  future  in  the  distance, 
And  the  good  that  I  can  do. 


Banks. 


8.     ALFRED   THE    G-REAT. 

1.  This  noble  king  possessed  all  the  Saxon  virtues. 
Misfortune  could  not  subdue  him,  and  prosperity  could 
not  spoil  him.  He  was  hopeful  in  defeat^  and  generous 
in  success.  He  loved  justice,  prudence,  truth,  and 
knowledge. 

2.  In  his  care  to  instruct  his  people,  he  did  a  great 
deal  to  preserve  the  old  Saxon  tongue.  He  made  just 
laws  for  his  people.  He  founded  schools  and  appointed 
upright  judges.  He  left  England  better,  wiser,  happier, 
in  aU  ways,  than  he  found  it. 

3.  Under  his  reign,  the  best  points  of  the  English- 
Saxon  character  were  developed.  It  has  been  the  great- 
est character  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Wherever 
the  Anglo-Saxons  have  gone,  they  have  been  patient 
and  persevering. 

4.  In  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  America,  the  whole  world 
over;   in  the  desert^  in  the  forest,  on  the  sea;   scorched 


FIFTH    READER.  25 

by  a  burning  sun,  or  frozen  by  ice  that  never  melts, 
the  Saxon  blood  remains  unchanged.  Wherever  that 
race  goes,  there  law,  industry,  and  safety  for  life  and 
property,  are  certain  to  arise. 

Dickens's  ChUd'a  History  of  England. 

Composition.    Write  from  memory  an  abstract  of  this  sketch. 

Supplementary.     If  Dickens's  Child's  History  of  England  is  in  the 
library,  let  the  class  read  further  extracts  about  Alfred  the  Great 


9.     THE    FIRST    GRENADIER    OF    FRANCE. 

1.  For  many  years*  a  touching  and  beautiful  custom 
might  have  been  witnessed  in  a  certain  regiment  of 
French  grenadiers,  which  was  meant  to  commemorate  the 
heroism  of  a  departed  comrade.  When  the  companies 
assembled  for  parade  and  the  roll  was  called,  there  was 
one  name  to  which  its  owner  could  not  answer — it  was 
that  of  La  Tour  d'Auvergne.  When  it  was  called,  the 
oldest  sergeant  present  stepped  a  pace  forward  and, 
raising  his  hand  to  his  cap,  said  proudly: — "Died  on 
the  field  of  honor." 

2.  He  was  not  unworthy  in  life  of  the  honor  thus  paid 
him  after  his  death.  He  was  educated  for  the  army, 
which  he  entered  in  1767.  He  always  served  with  dis- 
tinction, but  he  constantly  refused  offers  of  promotion, 
saying  that  he  was  only  fit  for  the  command  of  a 
company  of  grenadiers ;  but,  finally,  the  various  grenadier 
companies  being  united,  he  found  himself  in  command 
of  a  body  of  eight  thousand  men,  while  retaining  only 
the-  rank  of  captain.  Hence  he  was  known  as  "  The  First 
Grenadier  of  France." 

3.  When  he  was  forty  years  of  age,  he  went  on  a  visit 
to  a  friend,  in  a  region  that  was  soon  to  become  the  scene 
of  a  campaign.     WhUe  there,  he  was  careful  to  acquaint 


26  FIFTH    READER. 

himself  with  the  country,  thinking  it  not  unlikely  that 
this  knowh^dge  might  be  of  use  to  him.  He  jjresently 
learned  that  the  war  had  actually  shifted  to  that 
quarter. 

4.  A  regiment  of  Austrians  was  pushing  on  to  occupy 
a  narrow  pass,  the  possession  of  which  would  give  them 
an  opportunity  to  prevent  an  important  movement  of 
the-  French  which  was  then  in  progress.  They  hoped 
to  surprise  this  post,  and  were  moving  so  rapidly  upon 
it  that  they  were  not  more  than  two  hours  distant  from 
the  place  where  the  grenadier  was  staying,  and  which 
they  would  have  to  pass  in  their  march. 

5.  He  had  no  idea  of  being  captured  by  the  enemy 
in  their  advance,  and  he  at  once  set  off  for  the  pass. 
He  knew  that  it  was  defended  by  a  stout  tower  and 
a  garrison  of  thirty  men,  and  he  hoped  to  be  able  to 
warn  the  French  of  their  danger. 

6.  He  hastened  on,  and,  arriving  there,  found  the 
tower  in  a  perfect  condition.  But  it  had  just  been 
vacated  by  the  garrison,  who,  hearing  of  the  approach 
of  the  Austrians,  had  fled,  leaving  their  arms,  consisting 
of  thirty  excellent  muskets. 

7.  He  gnashed  his  teeth  with  rage  when  he  discovered 
this.  Searching  in  the  building,  he  found  several  boxes 
of  ammunition  wliich  the  cowards  had  not  destroyed. 
For  a  moment  he  was  in  despair;  but  immediately,  with 
a  grim  smile,  he  began  to  fasten  the  main  door  and  pile 
against  it  such  articles  as  he  could  find. 

8.  When  he  had  done  this,  he  loaded  all  the  guns,  and 
placed  them,  together  with  a  good  supply  of  ammunition, 
under  the  loop-holes  that  commanded  the  road  by  which 
the  enemy  must  advance.  Then  he  ate  heartily  of  the 
provisions  he  had  brought  with  him,  and  sat  down  to 
wait.  He  had  formed  the  heroic  resolution  to  defend 
the  tower  alone  against  the  enemy.  There  were  some 
things  in  his  favor  in  such  an  undertaking. 


FIFTH    READER.  27 

9.  The  pass  was  steep  and  narrow,  and  the  enemy's 
troops  could  enter  it  only  in  double  files,  in  doing 
which  they  would  be  fully  exposed  to  the  fire  from  the 
tower.  The  garrison  of  thirty  men  could  easily  have 
held  it  against  a  division,  and  now  one  man  was  about 
to  hold  it  against  a  regiment. 

10.  It  was  dark  when  he  reached  the  tower,  and'  he 
had  to  wait  some  time  for  the  enemy.  They  were  longer 
in  coming  than  he  expected,  and  for  a  while  he  was 
tempted  to  believe  that  they  had  abandoned  the  ex- 
pediticm. 

11.  About  midnight,  however,  his  practiced  ear  caught 
the  tramp  of  feet.  Every  moment  they  came  nearer,  and 
at  last  he  heard  them  entering  the  defile.  He  immediately 
discharged  two  muskets  into  the  darkness,  to  warn  the 
enemy  that  he  knew  of  their  presence  and  intention; 
then  he  heard  the  quick,  short  commands  of  the  ofiicer, 
and,  from  the  sounds,  supposed  that  the  troops  were 
retiring  from  the  pass. 

12.  Until  morning  he  was  undisturbed.  The  Austrian 
commander,  feeling  assured  that  the  garrison  had  been 
informed  of  his  movements,  and  was  prepared  to  receive 
him,  saw  that  he  could  not  surprise  the  post  as  he  had 
hoped  to  do,  and  deemed  it  prudent  to  wait  till  dayUght 
before  making  his  attack. 

13.  At  sunrise,  the  Austrian  commander  called  on  the 
garrison  to  surrender.  A  grenadier  answered  the  sum- 
mons. "Say  to  your  commander,"  he  said,  in  reply  to 
the  messenger,  "that  the  garrison  will  defend  this  pass 
to  the  last  extremity." 

14.  The  officer  who  had  borne  the  flag  of  tmce  retired, 
and  in  about  ten  minutes  a  j^iece  of  artillery  was  brought 
into  the  pass.  In  order  to  bear  upon  the  tower,  it  had 
to  be  placed  directly  in  front,  and  within  easy  musket 
range  of  it.  Scarcely  was  it  got  into  position  when  a 
rapid  fire  was  opened  on  it  from  the  tower ;  and  this  was 


28  FIFTH    READER. 

continued  with  such  marked  effect  that  the  gnn  was 
withdrawn  after  the  second  discharge,  with  a  loss  of 
five  men. 

15.  This  was  a  bad  beginning  5  so,  half  an  hour  after 
the  gun  was  withdrawn,  the  Austrian  colonel  ordered  an 
assault. 

As  the  troops  entered  the  defile,  they  were  received  with 
so  rapid  and  accurate  a  fire,  that,  when  they  had  passed 
over  half  the  distance  they  had  to  traverse,  they  had  lost 
fifteen  men.  Disheartened  by  this,  they  returned  to  the 
mouth  of  the  pass, 

16.  Three  more  assaults  were  repulsed  in  this  manner, 
and  the  enemy  by  sunset  had  lost  forty-five  men,  of  whom 
ten  were  killed. 

The  firing  from  the  tower  had  been  rapid  and  accurate, 
but  the  Austrian  commander  noticed  this  peculiarity 
about  it — every  shot  seemed  to  come  from  the  same  place. 
For  a  while  this  perplexed  him,  but  at  last  he  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  there  were  a  number  of  loop-holes 
close  together  in  the  tower,  so  constructed  as  to  command 
the  ravine  perfectly. 

17.  At  sunset  the  last  assault  was  made  and  repulsed, 
and  at  dark  the  Austrian  commander  sent  a  second 
summons  to  the  garrison. 

This  time  the  answer  was  favorable.  The  garrison 
offered  to  surrender  at  sunrise  next  morning,  if  allowed 
to  march  out  with  their  arms  and  return  to  the  army 
unmolested.  After  some  hesitation  the  terms  were 
accepted. 

18.  Meantime  the  French  soldier  had  passed  an 
anxious  day  in  the  tower.  He  had  opened  the  fight 
with  thirty  loaded  muskets,  but  had  not  been  able  to 
discharge  them  aU.  He  had  fired  with  great  rapidity, 
yet  with  surprising  accuracy — for  it  was  well  known  in 
the  army  that  he  never  threw  away  a  shot. 

19.  He  had  determined  to  stand  to  his  post  until  he 


FIFTH    READER.  29 

had  accomplished  his  object,  which  was  to  hold  the  place 
twenty-four  hours,  in  order  to  give  the  French  army 
time  to  complete  its  maneuver.  After  that  he  knew  the 
pass  woiild  be  of  no  consequence  to  the  enemy. 

20.  The  next  day  at  sunrise  the  Austrian  troops  lined 
the  pass  in  two  files,  extending  from  the  mouth  of  the 
ravine  to  the  tower,  leaving  a  space  between  them  for  the 
garrison  to  pass  out. 

21.  The  heavy  door  of  the  tower  opened  slowly,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  a  bronzed  and  scarred  grenadier, 
literally  laden  with  muskets,  came  out  and  passed  down 
the  line  of  troops.  He  walked  with  difficulty  under  his 
heavy  load.  To  the  surprise  of  the  Austrians  no  one 
followed  him  from  the  tower. 

22.  In  astonishment  the  Austrian  colonel  rode  up  to 
him,  and  asked  in  French  why  the  garrison  did  not  come 
out. 

"  I  am  the  garrison.  Colonel,''  said  the  soldier  proudly. 

23.  "What!''  exclaimed  the  colonel,  "do  you  mean  to 
tell  me  that  you  alone  have  held  that  tower  against 
me?" 

"I  have  the  honor.  Colonel,"  was  the  reply. 
"What  possessed  you,  that  you  made  such  an  attempt. 
Grenadier!" 
"The  honor  of  France  was  at  stake." 

24.  The  colonel  gazed  at  him  for  'a  moment  with 
undisguised  admiration.  Then,  raising  his  cap,  he  said 
warmly:  "Grenadier,  I  salute  you.  You  have  proved 
yourself  the  bravest  of  the  brave." 

25.  The  officer  caused  all  the  arms  which  La  Tour 
d'Auvergne  could  not  carry  to  be  collected,  and  sent 
them  with  the  grenadier  into  the  French  hues,  together 
with  a  note  relating  the  whole  affair. 

26.  When  the  circumstance  came  to  the  knowledge 
of  Napoleon  he  offered  to  promote  La  Tour^  but  the 
latter  preferred  to  remain  a  grenadier. 


30  FIFTH    READER. 

27.  The  brave  soldier  met  his  death  in  an  action  in 
Jnne,  1800,  and  the  simple  and  expressive  scene  at  roll- 
call  in  his  regiment  was  commenced  and  continued  by 
command  of  the  Emperor, 

DEFINITIONS. 

gren  a  diers',    tall    and    powerful  I   ma  neu'ver,    military  movement, 
soldiers.  |       or  stratagem. 


10.     POLONIUS'S   ADVICE   TO   HIS    SON. 

Require  pupils  to  memorise  this  extract  for  recitation. 

Give  thy  thoughts  no  tongue, 
Nor  any  unproportioned  thought  his  act. 
Be  thou  familiar,  but  by  no  means  vulgar. 
The  friends  thou  hast,  and  their  adoption  tried, 
Grapple  them  to  thy  soul  with  hooks  of  steel; 
But  do  not  dull  thy  palm  with  entertainment 
Of  each  new-hatched,  unfledged  comrade.     Beware 
Of  entrance  to  a  quarrel;  but,  being  in. 
Bear  it,  that  the  oppo'ser  may  beware  of  thee. 
Give  every  man  thine  ear,  but  few  thy  voice. 
Take  each  man's  censure,  but  reserve  thy  judgment. 
Costly  thy  habit  as  thy  purse  can  buy. 
But  not  exp:jressed  in  fancy;  rich,  not  gaudy; 
For  the  apparel  oft  proclaims  the  man; 
And  they  in  France,  of  the  best  rank  and  station. 
Are  most  select  and  generous,  chief  in  that. 
Neither  a  borrower  nor  a  lender  be: 
For  loan  oft  loses  both  itself  and  friend; 
And  borrowing  dulls  the  edge  of  husbandry. 
This  above  all, — to  thine  own  self  be  true; 
And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day, 
Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 
Farewell;  my  blessing  season  this  in  thee. 

SUAKKSPEARE. 


FIFTH    READER.  31 


11.     THE   FORMATION   OF   GOOD   HABITS. 

1.  The  habit  of  metJiod  is  essential  to  all  who  have 
much  work  to  do,  if  they  would  perform  it  easily  and 
with  economy  of  time.  The  importance  of  system  in 
the  discharge  of  daily  duties  was  strikingly  illustrated 
in  the  experience  of  Dr.  Kane  when  he  was  locked  up 
among  the  icebergs  of  the  Arctic  Circle,  with  the  pros- 
pect of  months  of  dreary  imprisonment.  With  his  men 
enfeebled  by  disease  and  privations,  and  when  all  but 
eight  of  his  company  had  gone  to  search  for  a  way  of 
escape,  he  sustained  the  drooping  spirits  of  the  handful 
who  clung  to  him,  and  kept  up  their  energies,  by  sys- 
tematic performance  of  duties  and  by  moral  discipline. 

2.  "  It  is,"  he  observes,  ^'  the  experience  of  every  man 
who  has  either  combated  difficulties  himseK,  or  attempted 
to  guide  others  through  them,  that  the  controlling  law 
must  be  systematic  action.  I  resolved  that  every  thing 
should  go  on  as  it  had  done.  The  arrangement  of  hours, 
the  distribution  and  details  of  duty,  the  religious  exer- 
cises, the  ceremonials  of  the  table,  the  fires,  the  lights, 
the  watch,  the  labors  of  the  observatory,  and  the  nota- 
tion of  the  tides  and  the  sky, — nothing  should  be  in- 
termitted that  had  contributed  to  make  up  the  day." 

3.  The  necessity  of  accuracy  to  success  in  any  calling 
is  so  obvious  as  hardly  to  need  remark.  Whatever  is 
worth  doing  at  all  is  worth  doing  weU.  It  is  better  to 
do  a  few  things  carefuUy,  precisely  as  they  should  be 
done,  than  to  do  ten  times  as  many  in  a  loose,  slovenly 
way.  It  matters  little  what  virtues  a  man  has,  if  he  is 
habitually  inexact.  Be  he  a  lawyer,  an  architect,  an 
accountant,  or  an  artisan,  his  work  is  done  so  poorly 
that  it  has  to  be  done  over  again,  causing  infinite  trouble 
and  perplexity. 

4.  Functuality  is  another  virtue  which  must  be  culti- 


32  FIFTH    READER. 

vated  by  all  who  would  succeed  in  any  calling,  whether 
lofty  or  humble.  Nothing  sooner  inspires  people  with 
confidence  in  a  business  man  than  this  quality,  nor  is 
there  any  habit  which  sooner  saps  his  reputation  than 
that  of  being  always  behind  time.  Thousands  have  failed 
in  life  from  this  cause  alone. 

5.  Unpunctuality  is  not  only  a  serious  vice  in  itself, 
— it  is  also  the  cause  of  other  vices;  so  that  he  who 
becomes  its  victim  becomes  involved  in  toils  from  which 
it  is  almost  impossible  to  escape.  He  who  needlessly 
breaks  his  appointment  shows  that  he  is  as  reckless  of 
the  waste  of  the  time  of  others  as  of  his  own.  His 
acquaintances  readily  conclude  that  the  man  who  is  not 
conscientious  about  his  appointments  will  be  equally 
careless  about  his  other  duties,  and  they  will  refuse  to 
trust  him  with  matters  of  importance. 

6.  Punctuality  should  be  made  not  only  a  point  of 
courtesy,  but  also  a  point  of  conscience.  The  beginner 
in  business  should  make  this  virtue  one  of  his  first  objects. 
Let  him  not  delude  himself  with  the  idea  that  he  can 
practice  it  by  and  by,  when  the  necessity  of  it  will  be  more 
cogent. 

7.  It  is  not  easy  to  be  punctual,  even  in  youth;  but 
in  after-life,  when  the  character  is  fixed,  when  the  men- 
tal and  moral  faculties  have  acquired  a  cast-iron  rigidity, 
to  unlearn  the  habit  of  tardiness  is  almost  an  impossi- 
bmty. 

8.  The  successful  men  in  every  calling  have  had  a 
keen  sense  of  the  value  of  time.  They  have  been  misers 
of  minutes.  Nelson  attributed  all  his  success  in  life  to 
having  been  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  his  time. 

9.  Napoleon  studied  his  watch  as  closely  as  he  studied 
the  map  of  the  battle-field.  His  victories  were  not  won 
by  consummate  strategy  merely,  but  by  impressing  his 
subordinates  with  the  necessity  of  punctuality  to  the  min- 
ute.    Maneuvering  over  large  spaces  of  country,  so  that 


FIFTH    READER.  33 

the  enemy  was  puzzled  to  decide  where  the  blow  would 
fall,  he  would  suddenly  concentrate  his  forces  and  fall 
mth  resistless  might  on  some  weak  point  in  the  extended 
lines  of  the  foe.  The  successful  execution  of  this  plan 
demanded  tliat  every  division  of  his  army  should  be  at 
the  place  named  at  the  very  hour. 

10.  Washington  was  so  rigidly  punctual,  that  when 
Hamilton,  his  secretary,  pleaded  a  slow  watch  as  an 
excuse  for  being  five  minutes  late,  he  replied,  "Then, 
sir,  either  you  must  get  a  new  watch  or  I  must  get  a 
new  secretary.'' 

11.  Such  habits  as  we  have  commended  are  not  formed 
in  a  day,  nor  by  a  few  faint  resolutions.  Not  by  accident, 
not  by  fits  and  starts  are  they  acquired; — not  by  being 
one  moment  in  a  violent  fit  of  attention,  and  the  next 
falling  into  the  sleep  of  indifference;  but  by  steady,  per- 
sistent effort.  Above  all,  it  is  necessary  that  they  should 
be  acquired  in  youth;  for  then  do  they  cost  the  least 
effort.  Like  letters  cut  in  the  bark  of  a  tree,  they 
grow  and  widen  with  age. 

12.  Once  acquired,  they  are  a  fortune  in  themselves; 
for  their  possessor  has  disposed  thereby  of  the  heavy 
end  of  the  load  of  life, — all  that  remains  he  can  carry 
easily  and  pleasantly.  On  the  other  hand,  bad  habits, 
once  formed,  and  acquired,  as  they  generally  are,  in 
early  life,  will  hang  forever  on  the  wheels  of  enterprise, 
and  in  the  end  will  assert  their  supremacy,  to  the  ruin 
and  shame  of  their  victim. 

DEFINITIONS. 


con  sum''mate,  very  skillful. 

de  lude'',  deceive. 

per  sisfent,  fixed;   tenacious. 

ri  gid'i  ty,  stiffness. 

ma  neu'ver  ing,  moving  adroitly. 

pri  va'tions,  hardships. 

con''cen  trate,  combine ;  unite. 

di  vis'ion,  two  or  more  brigades. 


strafe  gy,  generalship ;  science  of 
military  command. 

sub  or'di  nate,  those  in  a  lower 
order  of  rank. 

su  prem'a  cy,  power  of  command- 
ing or  ruling. 

com  mend',  to  present  as  worthy 
of  regard. 

5-3 


34  FIFTH    READER. 


12.     THE   IMAG-INARY   BANQUET. 

[The  following  story  is  taken  from  the  "Arabian  Nights"— a  collection  of  stories  which 
illustrate  the  habits,  manners,  and  customs  of  the  people  in  the  East,  and  which  are  full 
of  the  most  incredible  marvels,  such  as  are  gravely  told  in  Asia  Minor,  Turkey,  and  other 
Mohammedan  countries.  This  is  the  story  which  has  given  origin  to  the  phrase,  a  Bar- 
mecide Feast.  The  Barmecides  were  descendants  of  Barmec,  a  very  able  adviser  of  the 
ruler  or  Caliph  of  all  the  Mohammedans,  and  tutor,  and  afterwards  vizier  (or  prime 
minister)  to  the  great  Haroun-al-Raschid.  His  descendants  were  wealthy,  and  renowned 
fur  their  wit  and  wisdom;  and  it  is  of  one  of  them  that  the  following  story  is  told.] 

1.  My  sixth  brother  was  called  Shacabac,  the  hare- 
lippedj  who,  by  reverse  of  fortune,  was  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  begging  his  bread.  In  this  occupation  he 
acquitted  himself  with  great  address,  his  chief  aim  being 
to  procure  admission,  by  bribing  the  officers  and  do- 
mestics, into  the  houses  of  the  great,  and,  by  having 
access  to  their  persons,  to  excite  their  compassion. 

2.  By  this  means  he  one  day  gained  admission  to  a 
magnificent' building,  in  which,  luxuriously  rechning  on 
a  sofa,  in  a  room  richly  furnished,  he  found  the  master, 
a  Barmecide,  who,  in  the  most  obHging  manner,  thus 
addressed  him :  "  Welcome  to  my  house.  What  dost 
thou  wish,  my  friend!" 

3.  Shacabac.  "I  am  in  great  Avant.  I  suffer  from 
hunger,  and  have  nothing  to  eat." 

The  Barmecide  was  much  astonished  at  this  answer. 
*^What!"  he  cried.  "What!  nothing  to  eat!  Am  I  in 
the  city,  and  thou  in  it  hungry!  It  is  a  thing  I  cannot  en- 
dure. Thou  shalt  be  happy  as  heart  can  wish.  Thou  must 
stay  and  partake  of  my  salt.     Whatever  I  have  is  thine." 

4.  Shew.  "O  my  master!  I  have  not  patience  to  wait, 
for  I  am  in  a  state  of  extreme  hunger.  I  have  eaten 
nothing  this  day." 

Barm.  "What,  is  it  true  that  even  at  this  late  hour 
thou  hast  not  broken  thy  fast!  Alas!  poor  man,  he 
win  die  of  hunger.  Halloo  there,  boy,  bring  us  in- 
stantly a  basin  of  water,  that  we  may  wash  our  hands." 


FIFTH    READER.  35 

5.  Although  no  boy  appeared,  and  my  brother  ob- 
served neither  basin  nor  water,  the  Barmecide  nevertheless 
began  to  rub  his  hands,  as  if  some  one  held  the  water 
for  him,  and  while  he  was  doing  this  he  urged  my 
brother  to  do  the  same.  Shacabac,  by  this,  supposed 
that  the  Barmecide  was  fond  of  fun;  and,  as  he  liked 
a  jest  liimself,  he  approached  and  pretended  to  wash 
his  hands,  and  afterwards  to  wipe  them  with  a  napkin 
held  by  the  attendant. 

6.  Barm.  "Now  bring  us  something  to  eat,  and  take 
care  not  to  keep  us  waiting.  Set  the  table  here.  Now 
place  the  dishes  on  it.  Come,  my  friend,  sit  down  at  the 
table  here.  Eat,  my  friend,  and  be  not  ashamed;  for 
thou  art  hungry,  *  and  I  know  how  thou  art  suffering 
from  the  violence  of  thy  hunger." 

7.  Saying  these  words,  although  nothing  had  been 
brought  to  eat,  he  began  as  if  he  had  taken  something 
on  his  plate,  and  pretended  to  put  it  in  his  mouth  and 
chew  it;  adding,  "Eat,  I  beg  of  thee;  for  a  hungry 
man,  thou  seemest  to  have  but  a  poor  appetite.  What 
thinkest  thou  of  this  bread!" 

8.  Shac.  (Aside.)  "Verily  this  is  a  man  that  loveth  to 
jest  with  others.  (To  Barmecide.)  O  my  master!  never 
in  my  life  have  I  seen  bread  more  beautifully  white 
than  this,  or  of  sweeter  taste.  Where  didst  thou  pro- 
cure it?" 

9.  Barm.  "This  was  made  by  a  female  slave  of  mine, 
whom  I  purchased  for  five  hundred  pieces  of  gold. 
(Calling  aloud.)  Boy!  bring  to  us  the  dish  the  like 
of  which  is  not  found  among  the  viands  of  kings.  Eat, 
O  my  guest!  for  thou  art  hungry — vehemently  so,  and 
in  absolute  want  of  food." 

10.  Shac.  (Twisting  his  mouth  about  as  if  eating 
heartily.)  "Verily  this  is  a  dish  worthy  the  table  of 
Solomon." 

Barm.    "Eat   on,  my  friend.      Boy!    place   before  us 


36  FIFTH    READER. 

the  lamb  fattened  with  abiionds.  Now,  this  is  a  dish 
never  found  but  on  my  table,  and  I  wish  thee  to  eat 
thy  fiU  of  it." 

11.  As  he  said  this,  the  Barmecide  pretended  to  take 
a  piece  in  his  hand  and  put  it  to  my  brother's  mouth. 
Shacabac  held  his  head  forward,  opened  his  mouth,  pre- 
tended to  take  the  piece,  and  to  chew  and  swallow  it 
with  the  greatest  delight. 

12.  Sitae .  '^O  my  master!  verily  this  dish  hath  not 
its  equal  in  sweetness  of  flavor." 

Barm.  ^'Do  justice  to  it,  I  pray,  and.  eat  more  of  it. 
The  goose,  too,  is  very  fat.  Try  only  a  leg  and  a  wing. 
Halloo,  boy,  bring  us  a  fresh  supply." 

13.  Shac.  '^O  no,  by  no  means!  for  in  truth,  my 
lord,  I  cannot  eat  any  more." 

Barm.  "Let  the  dessert,  then,  be  served,  and  the  fruit 
brought.  Taste  these  dates  5  they  are  just  gathered, 
and  very  good.  Here,  too,  are  some  fine  walnuts,  and 
here  some  dehcious  raisins.     Eat,  and  be  not  ashamed." 

14.  My  brother's  jaws  were  by  this  time  weary  of 
chewing  nothing.  "I  assure  thee,"  said  he,  "I  am  so 
full  that  I  cannot  eat  another  morsel  of  this  cheer." 

Barm.  "Well,  then,  we  will  now  have  the  wine.  Boy, 
bring  us  the  wine!  Here,  my  friend,  take  this  cup;  it 
will  delight  thee.  Come,  drink  my  health,  and  tell  me 
if  thou  thinkest  the  wine  good." 

15.  But  the  wine,  like  the  dinner  and  dessert,  did  not 
appear.  However,  he  pretended  to  pour  some  out,  and 
drank  the  first  glass,  after  which  he  poured  out  another 
for  his  guest. 

My  brother  took  the  imaginary  glass,  and,  first  hold- 
ing it  up  to  the  light  to  see  if  it  was  of  a  good,  bright 
color,  he  put  it  to  his  nose  to  examine  the  perfume; 
then,  making  a  profound  reverence  to  the  Barmecide, 
he  drank  it  off  with  marks  of  profound  appreciation. 

16.  The  Barmecide  continued  to  pour  out  one  bumper 


FIFTH    READER. 


37 


after  another,  so  frequently,  that  Shacabac,  pretending 
that  the  wine  had  got  into  his  head,  feigned  to  be  tipsy. 
This  being  the  case,  he  raised  his  fist,  and  gave  the 
Barmecide  such  a  violent  blow  that  he  knocked  him 
down. 

Barm.  (Yerij  angry.)  "What  means  this,  thou  vilest 
of  the  creation?    Art  thou  mad?" 

17.  Sliac.  "O  my  master!  thou  hast  fed  me  with  thy 
provisions,  and  treated  me  with  old  wine;  and  I  have 
become  intoxicated,  and  committed  an  outrage  upon 
thee.  But  thou  art  of  too  exalted  dignity  to  be  angry 
with  me  for  my  ignorance ! " 

18.  He  had  hardly  finished  this  speech  before  the 
Barmecide  burst  into  laughter.  "Come,"  said  he,  "I 
have  long  been  looking  for  a  man  of  thy  character. 
Come,  we  shall  now  be  friends.  Thou  hast  kept  up 
the  jest  in  pretending  to  eat;  now  thou  shalt  make  my 
house  thy  home,  and  eat  in  earnest." 

19.  Having  said  this,  he  clapped  his  hands.  Several 
slaves  instantly  appeared,  whom  he  ordered  to  set  out 
the  table  and  serve  the  dinner.  His  commands  were 
quickly  obeyed,  and  my  brother  now  enjoyed  the  reality 
of  what  he  had  before  partaken  only  in  idea. 


WRITTEN  SPEI.I.ING.-WORDS 

SPELLED 

IN 

TWO  WAYS. 

meter 

or  metre 

fiber 

or 

fibre 

luster 

"   lustre 

saber 

sabre 

center 

"    centre 

meager 

meagre 

specter 

"    spectre 

somber 

sombre 

theater 

"   theatre 

scepter 

sceptre 

caliber 

"   calibre 

reveler 

reveller 

accouter 

"   accoutre 

traveler 

traveller 

sepulcher 

"    sepulchre 

rivaled 

rivalled 

tunneled 

"    tunnelled 

traveled 

travelled 

38  FIFTH    READER. 


IL     VOCAL   TJSAJimVO.— Emphasis. 

Emphasis,  as  the  term  is  generally  used  in  Reading, 
is  a  special  force  of  voice  applied  to  the  most  significant 
or  expressive  words  in  a  sentence.  In  its  widest  signifi- 
cation, however,  it  denotes  any  means  of  distinguishing 
the  most  expressive  words  in  a  sentence,  whether  by 
force,  inflection,  pauses,  stress,  or  quantity. 

It  is  possible  to  make  a  word  very  .emphatic  by  means 
of  an  intense  whisper.  All  words  distinguished  by  a 
strong  inflection  are  emphatic. 

A  pause  before  or  after  a  word  makes  it  emphatic 
by  calling  attention  to  it.  Words  are  also  made  em- 
phatic by  prolonging  the  vowel  or  the  hquid  sound — 
that  is,  by  quantity. 

In  general,  the  stronger  the  emphatic  force,  the  longer 
are  the  slides,  and  the  more  prolonged  the  sounds.  Thus 
emphasis  includes  force.,  quantity,  and  inflection. 

I.      DISTINCTIONS    OF   EMPHASIS. 

Umphasis  is  absolute  or  emotional,  when  it  depends 
upon  the  importance  of  an  idea  without  reference  to 
any  other  idea;  or  when  it  expresses  strong  emotion  or 
passion.  It  is  relative  when  it  depends  on  relative  or 
contrasted  ideas. 


II.     EXAMPI.ES    OF  ABSOIiUTE    EMPHASIS. 

1.  QutcJc!    qmcTi!    quick!   pull  for  your  lives. 

2.  To  arms!    to  arms!    to  arms!    they  cry. 

3.  We  may  die;    die  colonists!    die  slaves! 

4.  Go,  ring  the  lellsj  and  fire  the  guns,  and  fling  the 
starry  banners  out. 

5.  Up  drawhridge!   groom!     What,  warder,  lid!     Let 
the  portciillis  fall! 


FIFTH    READER. 


in.      EXAMPLES    OF    RELATIVE    EMPHASIS. 


3d 


1.  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive. 

2.  Not  that  I  loved  Caesar  less,  but  Rome  more. 

3.  Science  may  raise  you  to  eminence;  virtue  alone 
can  guide  you  to  happiness. 

4.  Custom  is  the  plague  of  wise  men,  and  the  idol  of 
fools. 

5.  The  man  is  more  hndve  than  fool. 

6.  Goivards  die  mdyiij  times;  the  hrdve  but  once. 

7.  JTe  raised  a  mortal  to  the  sHes; 
She  drew  an  angel  cZom^^j. 

8.  You  cannot  do  ^vrong  without  suffering  wrong. 

9.  All  things  are  double;  one  against  another;  tit  for 
tat;  an  eye  for  an  hje;  a  tooth  for  a  ^oo^/i;  &/oo(Z  for 
hlood;  measure  for  measure;  love  for  Zot'6^.  ^ii?e  and  it 
shall  be  given  you.     Nothing  venture,  nothing  have. 

10.  As  Caesar  loved  me,  I  weep  for  him;  as  he  was 
fortunate,  I  rejoice  at  it;  as  he  was  valiant,  I  ^owor  him; 
but,  as  he  was  ambitious,  I  s?^w;  him. 


rV.       GENERAL    RULE    FOR    EMPHASIS. 

The  general  rule  for  emphasis  may  be  stated  as  follows: 
Distinguish  the  most  significant  words  in  the  sentence  by 
means  of  force,  inflection,  or  pauses. 

The  subject  and  the  predicate  of  a  sentence  are,  in 
general,  emphatic.  Prepositions,  conjunctions,  pronouns, 
and  connectives  are,  in  general,  unemphatic.  Explanatory 
phrases  and  clauses  are  unernphatic. 


REVIEW    EXERCISES. 

I.  Breathing  Exercises. 

II.  Recitations.  Require  each  pupil  to  go  upon  the 
platform,  and  recite  some  stanza  of  poetry  learned  by 
heart  from  the  Fourth  Reader. 


40  FIFTH    READER. 


13.     ON   LEARNING  PIECES   BY   HEART. 

1.  Till  lie  lias  fairly  tried  it,  I  suspect  a  reader  does 
not  know  how  much  he  would  gain  from  committing 
to  memory  passages  of  real  excellence,  precisely  because 
he  does  not  know  how  much  he  overlooks  in  merely 
reading.  Learn  one  true  poem  by  heart,  and  see  if  you 
do  not  find  it  so.  Beauty  ,af ter  beauty  will  reveal  itself, 
in  chosen  phrase,  or  happy  music,  or  noble  suggestion, 
otherwise  undreamed  of.  It  is  like  looking  at  one  of 
Nature's  wonders  through  a  microscope. 

2.  Again,  how  much  in  such  a  poem  that  you  really 
did  feel  admirable  and  lovely  on  a  first  reading,  passes 
away,  if  you  do  not  give  it  a  further  and  much  better 
reading — passes  away  utterly,  like  a  sweet  sound  or 
an  image  on  the  lake,  which  the  first  breath  of  wind 
dispels!  If  you  could  only  fix  that  image,  as  the  pho- 
tographers do  theirs,  so  beautifully,  so  perfectly!  And 
you  can  do  so.  Learn  it  by  heart,  and  it  is  yours  for- 
ever. 

3.  I  have  said  a  true  poem,  for,  naturally,  men  -will 
choose  to  learn  poetry  j  from  the  begining  of  time  they 
have  done  so.  To  immortal  verse  the  memory  gives  a 
willing,  a  joyous,  and  a  lasting  home.  However,  some 
prose  is  poetical,  is  poetry,  and  altogether  worthy  to  be 
learned  by  heart,  and  the  learning  is  not  so  very  diffi- 
cult. It  is  not  difficult  or  toilsome  to  learn  that  which 
pleases  us,  and  the  labor  once  given,  is  forgotten,  while 
the  result  remains. 

4.  Poems  and  noble  extracts,  whether  of  verse  or 
prose,  once  so  reduced  into  possession  and  rendered 
truly  our  own,  may  be  to  us  a  daily  pleasure — better 
far  than  a  whole  library  unused.  They  may  come  to  us 
in  our  dull  moments  to  refresh  us  with  spring  flowers  5 
in  oiu'  selfish  musings,  to  win  us  by  pure  dehght  from 


FIFTH    READER.  41 

the  tyfanny  of   foolish  castle-building,   self-congratula- 
tions, and  mean  anxieties. 

5.  They  may  be  with  us  in  the  workshop,  in  the 
crowded  streets,  by  the  fireside  j  our  own  in  times  of 
joy  or  of  tribulation  J  sometimes,  perhaps,  on  pleasant 
hill-sides  or  by  sounding  shores; — noble  friends  and  com- 
panions— our  own !  never  intrusive,  ever  at  hand,  coming 
at  our  call! 

6.  Shakespeare,  Milton,  Wordsworth,  Burns,  Tennyson, 
Bryant, — the  words  of  such  men  do  not  stale  upon  us; 
they  do  not  grow  old  or  cold.  Further,  though  you 
are  young  now,  some  day  you  will  be  old.  Some  day 
you  may  reach  that  time  when  a  man  lives  in  greater 
part  for  memory  and  by  memory. 

7.  I  can  imagine  a  chance  renewal,  chance  visitation 
of  the  words  long  remembered,  long  garnered  in  the 
heart,  and  I  think  I  see  a  gleam  of  rare  joy  in  the 
eyes  of  the  old  man.  For  those,  in  particular,  whose 
leisure-time  is  short,  and  precious  as  scant  rations  to 
beleaguered  men,  I  believe  there  could  not  be  a  better 
expenditure  of  time  than  deliberately  giving  an  occa- 
sional hour — it  requires  no  more — to  committing  to 
memory  chosen  passages  from  great  authors. 

8.  If  the  mind  were  thus  daily  nourished  with  a  few 
choice  words  of  the  best  English  poets  and  Avriters;  if 
the  habit  of  learning  by  heart  were  to  become  so  gen- 
eral that,  as  a  matter  of  course,  any  person  presuming 
to  be  educated  amongst  us  might  be  expected  to  be 
equipped  with  a  few  good  pieces, — I  believe  it  would 
lead,  far  more  than  the  mere  sound  of  it  suggests,  to 
the  diffusion  of  the  best  kind  of  literature  and  the 
right  appreciation  of  it,  and  men  would  not  long  rest 
satisfied  with  knowing  a  few  stock  pieces. 

9.  The  only  objection  I  can  conceive  to  what  I  have 
been  saying  is,  that  it  may  be  said  that  a  relish  for 
higher  literature  belongs  only  to  the  few;  that  it  is  the 


42  FIFTH    READER. 

resiilt  of  cultivation,  and  that  there  is  no  use  in*-  trying 
to  create  what  must  be  in  general  only  a  fictitious 
interest.  But  I  do  not  admit  that  literature,  even  the 
higher  literature,  must  belong  to  the  few. 

10.  Poetry  is,  in  the  main,  essentially  catholic — ad- 
dressed to  all  men  5  and  though  some  poetry  requires 
particular  knowledge  and  superior  culture,  much,  and 
that  the  noblest,  needs  only  natural  feeling  and  the  light 
of  common  experience.  Such  poetry,  taken  in  modera- 
tion, followed  with  genuine  good- will,  shared  in  com- 
mon, will  be  intelligible  and  dehghtful  to  most  men  who 
will  take  the  trouble  to  be  students  at  all,  and  ever  more 
and  more  so. 

11.  Perhaps,  also,  there  may  be  a  fragment  of  truth  in 
what  Charles  Lamb  has  said,  that  spouting  any  thing 
"withers  and  blows  upon  a  fine  passage;"  that  there  is 
no  enjoying  it  after  it  has  been  "pawed  about  by  declam- 
atory boys  and  men."  But  surely  there  is  a  reasonable 
habit  of  recitation  as  well  as  an  unreasonable  one;  there 
is  no  need  of  declamatory  pawing. 

12.  To  abandon  all  recitation  is  to  give  up  a  custom 
which  has  given  delight  and  instruction  to  aU.  the  races 
of  articulately  speaking  men.  If  our  faces  are  set  against 
vain  display  and  set  toward  rational  enjojonent  of  one 
another,  each  freely  giving  his  best  and  freely  receiving 
what  his  neighbor  offers,  we  need  not  fear  that  our  social 
evenings  will  be  marred  by  an  occasional  recitation,  or 
that  the  fine  passages  will  wither.  And,  moreover,  it 
is  not  for  the  mere  purpose  of  recitation  that  I  chiefly 
recommend  this  most  faithful  form  of  reading — learning 
by  heart. 

13.  I  come  back,  therefore,  to  this,  that  learning  by 
heart  is  a  good  thing,  and  is  neglected  amongst  us. 
Why  is  it  neglected  f  Partly  because  of  our  indolence, 
but  partly,  I  take  it,  because  we  do  not  sufiiciently 
consider  that  it  is  a  good  thing,  and  needs  to  be  taken 


FIFTH    READER.  43 

in  hand.  We  need  to  be  reminded  of  it:  I  here  remind 
you.  Like  a  town-crier,  ringing  my  bell,  I  would  say 
to  you,  "Oyez,  oyez!  Lost,  stolen,  or  strayed,  a  good 
ancient  practice — the  good  ancient  practice  of  learning 
by  heart.     Every  finder  will  be  handsomely  rewarded." 

14.  If  any  ask,  ^^What  shall  I  learn?"  the  answer  is. 
Do  as  you  do  with  tunes — ^begin  with  what  you  sin- 
cerely like  best,  what  you  would  most  wish  to  remember, 
what  you  would  most  enjoy  saying  to  yourself  or 
repeating  to  another.  But  be  careful  to  discriminate. 
Do  not  take  tinsel  for  pure  gold.  Some  of  our  com- 
pilers of  reading-books  for  schools  have  much  to  answer 
for  in  giving  place  to  worthless  pieces,  simply  because 
they  were  new.  Thus  they  who  ought  to  guide  the 
taste  deprave  it. 

15.  Better  learn  what  is  old,  so  it  be  good.  The  list 
of  memorable  poems  is  growing  to  be  large.  Choose  the 
best  first.  Then  "keeping  up"  is  easy.  Every  one  of 
you  has  his  spare  ten  minutes  j  one  of  the  problems  of 
life  is  how  to  employ  them  usefully.  You  may  well 
spend  some  in  looking  after  and  securing  this  good 
property  you  have  won.  veunon  lushington. 

DEFINITIONS. 


trib  u  la^tion,  severe  affliction, 
stale,  gi'ows  old. 
be  lea'guered,  besieged, 
cath^'o  lie,  liberal;  broad. 


fie  ti^'tious,  unreal. 

o''yez[o  ycsl,  hear  ye. 

tin'sel,  any  thing  gaudy  or  showy. 

wist'ful,  attentive. 


4 

WKITTEN   SPELLING.-WORDS    01<TEN 

MISSPELI.ED. 

Divide  into  sylla 

hies,  mark  the 

accented  syllable, 

and  use  the  jyroper 

diacritical  marks. 

cashmere 

sulphur 

tureen 

gudgeon 

veneer 

zephyi* 

sardine 

cushion 

pioneer 

vinegar 

careen 

sturgeon 

persevere 

serene 

kerosene 

stanchion 

44 


FIFTH    READER. 


14.     RING    OUT,  WILD    BELLS. 

1.  Ring  out,  wild  bells,  to  tlie  wild  sky. 

The  flying  cloud,  the  frosty  light  ^ 
The  year  is  dying  in  the  night  j 
King  out,  mid  bells,  and  let  him  die, 

2.  Ring  out  the  old,  ring  in  the  new. 

Ring,  happy  bells,  across  the  snow; 
The  year  is  going,  let  him  go: 
Ring  out  the  false,  ring  in  the  true. 


3.  Ring  out  the  grief  that  saps  the  mind. 

For  those  that  here  we  see  no  more; 
Ring  out  the  feud  of  rich  and  poor. 
Ring  in  redress  to  all  mankind. 

4.  Ring  out  a  slowly  dying  cause. 

And  ancient  forms  of  party  strife; 
Ring  in  the  nobler  modes  of  life, 
With  sweeter  manners,  purer  laws. 


FIFTH    READER.  45 

5.    Ring  out  the  want,  the  care,  the  sin, 

The  faithless  coldness  of  the  times; 
Ring  out,  ring  out  my  mournful  rhymes, 
But  ring  the  fuller  minstrel  in. 

G.    Ring  out  false  pride  in  place  and  blood. 
The  civic  slander  and  the  spite; 
Ring  in  the  love  of  truth  and  right, 
Ring  in  the  common  love  of  good. 

7.  Ring  out  old  shapes  of  foul  disease, 

Ring  out  the  narrowing  lust  of  gold; 
Ring  out  the  thousand  wars  of  old. 
Ring  in  the  thousand  years  of  peace. 

8.  Ring  in  the  valiant  man  and  free. 

The  larger  heart,  the  kindlier  hand; 
Ring  out  the  darkness  of  the  land. 
Ring  in  the  Christ  that  is  to  be. 

From  Tennyson's  In  Memoriam- 


15.     INVENTIONS   AND   INVENTORS. 

When  this  lesson  is  assigned,  ash  pupils  to  find  out  from  books 
'^f  reference  something  about  the  most  interesting  of  the  inventions 
enumerated. 

1.  The  mariner's  compass  and  the  galvanic  battery 
were  invented  in  Italy.  Printing  by  means  of  movable 
metal  t^-pes  was  invented  in  Germany.  The  microscope 
was  invented  in  Holland. 

2.  Great  Britain  has  enriched  the  world  by  the  invention 
of  the  steam-engine,  the  locomotive,  the  railfoad,  the 
spinning- jenny,  wea\ing-macliines,  the  chronometer,  the 
rolling-mill,  the  screw  propeller,  iron  ships,  and  the  steam- 
plow. 


46  FIFTH    READER. 

3.  France  claims  the  honor  of  inventing  photography, 
the  Jacquard  loom,  the  electro-magnet,  and  iron  armor 
for  ships. 

4.  The  United  States  has  contributed  the  steamboat, 
the  cotton-gin,  the  electric  telegraph,  the  sewing-machine, 
vrdcanized  rubber,  the  steam  fire-engine,  revolving  fire- 
arms, street -cars,  reaping-machines,  mowing-machines, 
pin -machines,  cut -nail  machines,  the  telephone,  some 
forms  of  the  electric  light,  and  a  great  number  of  minor 
but  very  useful  inventions. 

5.  Great  inventors  rank  among  the  benefactors  of  the 
world,  and  it  is  quite  as  desirable  to  know  something 
about  them  as  it  is  to  learn  about  great  authors,  states- 
men, or  warriors. 

6.  The  invention  of  the  telescope  is  generally  con- 
ceded to  Galileo,  an  Itahan  mathematician  and  astrono- 
mer of  the  16th  century. 

7.  The  art  of  printing  really  dates  from  the  15th 
century.  Centuries  before  this,  the  Chinese  had  printed 
books  by  means  of  carved  wooden  blocks.  John  Guten- 
berg, a  German  printer  at  Mentz,  invented  a  cheap 
method  of  making  movable  metal  types.  He  took  a 
partner  in  business  by  the  name  of  Faust,  and  hence 
the  invention  is  sometimes  attributed  to  Gutenberg  and 
Faust. 

8.  In  the  18th  century,  James  Watt,  of  Scotland, 
made  so  important  improvements  on  the  rude  steam- 
engines  of-  that  day,  that  he  is  called  the  inventor  of 
the  steam-engine.  As  is  often  the  case  with  important 
inventions,  the  steam-engine  owes  its  present  perfection 
to  the  combined  labors  of  many  inventors  and  machin- 
ists. George  Stephenson,  an  English  engineer,  invented 
a  locomotive  steam-engine  in  1814,  and  so  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  railroad  building. 

9.  Hargreaves  and  Arkwright,  both  Englishmen,  in- 
vented and  improved  spinning  and  weaving  machinery. 


FIFTH    READER.  47 

in  the  18th  century.  These  inventions,  together  with 
the  steam-engine,  made  England  a  great  manufacturing 
country. 

10.  Jacquard,  a  Frenchman,  invented,  in  1801,  a  loom 
for  wea\ing  carpets  and  other  figured  stuifs.  Daguerre, 
a  Frenchman,  invented,  in  1839,  the  process  of  taking 
daguerreotypes  upon  metallic  plates,  which  invention 
soon  developed  into  the  process  of  taking  photographs 
on  paper. 

11.  Near  the  close  of  the  18th  century  (1792),  Eli  Whit- 
ney, an  American,  invented  the  cotton-gin  {gin  is  an 
abbreviation  of  engine),  a  machine  for  separating  the 
seeds  of  cotton  from  the  fiber.  This  invention  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  wealth  of  the  cotton-growing  States. 

12.  Near  the  beginning  of  the  19th  century  (1807), 
Robert  Fulton,  an  American,  built  the  first  successful 
steamboat.  A  few  years  later  (1835),  Prof.  S.  B.  Morse, 
an  American,  invented  the  electric  telegraph;  and,  at 
about  the  same  time  (1839),  Goodyear,  also  an  American, 
invented  the  process  of  making  vulcanized  rubber,  now 
used  in  the  manufacture  of  "rubber  goods.'^ 

13.  The  sewing-macliine  was  invented  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  19th  century  (184G),  by  Elias  Howe,  an 
American.  The  two  most  notable  of  recent  inventions 
are  the  telephone  and  the  electric  light. 

Oral  Expression.  Ask  pupils  to  tell  the  class  any  thing  they  know 
about  any  of  the  inventions  mentioned. 


writtji:n 

SPEIXING.— WORDS    OFTEN    MISSPEI.I.ED. 

If  you  have  any  doubt  about  the 
a  word,  refer  to  the  dictionary. 

meaning  or  the 

jyronunciation  of 

counterfeit 

tacit 

coverlet 

emaciate 

requisite 

affidavit 

certificate 

insatiate 

biscuit 
forfeit 

hypocrite 
statuette 

separate 
pamphlet 

exhilarate 
exonerate 

48  FIFTH    READER. 

la     THE  NATIONAL  CLOCK. 

JRequire  the  hoys  of  tJie  class  to  memorize  this  for  declamation. 

1.  Every  nation  is  like  a  clock,  the  forces  at  work 
witliin  carrying  forward  some  purpose  or  plan  of  Prov- 
idence with  patient  constancy  j  but  when  the  season 
comes  that  the  sixtieth  minute  is  due,  and  a  new  hour 
must  be  sounded,  perhaps  not  for  the  nation  alone,  but 
for  the  world,  then — then  the  clock  strikes,  and  it  may 
be  with  a  force  and  resonance  that  startles  and  inspires 
the  race. 

2.  The  first  American  revolution  was  such  a  period — 
that  was  the  glory  of  it.  The  English  Government  had 
oppressed  our  fathers.  It  tried  to  break  their  spirit. 
For  several  years  it  was  a  dark  time,  like  the  hours 
before  the  striking  of  the  dawn.  But  the  Colonial  time- 
piece kept  ticking,  ticking  to  the  pressure  of  the  English 
Government,  the  giant  wheels  playing  calmly  till  about 
1775,  when  there  was  a  strange  stir  and  buzz  within 
the  case.  The  people  could  not  bear  any  more  of  it. 
But  the  sixtieth  minute  came,  and  the  clock  struck. 

3.  The  world  heard — the  battle  of  Lexington — onej  the 
Declaration  of  Independence — two ;  the  surrender  of  Bur- 
goync — three;  the  siege  of  Yorktown — four;  the  Treaty 
of  Paris — five;  the  inauguration  of  Washington— six. 

4.  And  then  it  was  sunrise  of  the  new  day,  of  which 
we  have  seen  yet  only  the  glorious  forenoon. 


6 

Thomas  Staer  Kino, 

WRITTEN 

artisan 
venison 
citizen 
partisan 

SPELLING.- 

treatise 
crevice 
tortoise 
mortise 

-WORDS    OFTEN 

jaundice 
promise 
privilege 
beverage 

MISSPELLED. 

vestige 
mortgage 
sacrilege 
herbage 

PUFTU     liKADKK. 


49 


17.     ABOUT    SHIPS. 


1.  The  class  to  which  a  vessel  belongs,  is  determined 
eliiefly  l)y  the  number  of  its  masts  and  the  arrangement 
and  form  of  its  sails.  The  smallest  of  ships  is  the  Sloop, 
which  is  distinguished  from  other  vessels  by  having  only 
one  mdstj  and  by  being  rigged  fore-and-aft ;  that  is  to 
say,  the  sails  are  stretched  in  the  direction  of  the  stem 
and  st'ern,  and  are  not  spread  on  yards  across  the  ves- 
sel. A  ship  whose  sails  stand  across  the  hull  is  said 
to  be  square-rigged. 

2.  The  mast  of  a  sloop  is  sometimes  in  one  piece, 
sometimes  in  two.  In  the  latter  case,  the  topmast  is 
fastened  to  the  top  of  the  lower  mast  in  such  a  way 
that  it  may  be  hoisted  or  lowered  at  pleasure.  A  sloop 
has  usually  four  sails — a  mainsail^  a  foresail^  a  j?*&,  and 
a  topsail. 

8.  The  mainsail  is  behind  the  lower  mast,  and  is 
spread  out  towards  the  stern,  on  two  spars.  The  lower 
of  these   spars  is  called  the  boom,  and  the  upper  the 


5-4 


50  FIFTH    READER. 

gaff.  This  is  the  largest  sail  in  the  vessel.  Above  it 
is  spread  the  topsail,  which  is  a  small  sail,  and  is  used 
only  when  the  wind  is  light.  The  foresail  is  a  trian- 
gular sail  which  is  hauled  up  and  down  on  the  forestay, 
a  rope  extending  from  the  lower  mast-head  to  the  bow. 
In  front  of  this,  and  stretched  on  the  bowsprit,  is  the 
jib,  also  a  triangular  sail. 

4.   The  Cutter  is  simply  an  elegantly  built  sloop,  and 

is  generally  used 
for  pleasure.  It  is 
clipper-built;  that 
is,  it  has  sharp 
lines,  a  smooth 
hull,  and  a  raking 
mast,  and  is  de- 
signed for  fast 
sailing. 

5.  The  Schooner 
usually  carries  two 
masts;  it  is  rigged 
chiefly  fore-and- 
aft,  like  a  sloop. 
It  is  the  most  ele- 
gant and,  for  a  small 
craft,  the  most  manageable  vessel  that  floats.  The  mast 
nearer  the  stern  is  called  the  mainmast ^  the  other  the 
foremast.  The  mainmast  carries  the  mainsail,  the  main- 
top-sail, and  the  maintop-mast  stay-sail.  The  last  named 
sail  is  extended  upon  the  maintop-mast  stay,  which  leads 
from  the  maintop-mast  head  to  the  foremast-head.  The 
foremast  carries  the  foresail — a  repetition  of  the  main- 
sail— and  above  it  the  f oretop-sail.  In  front  of  the  fore- 
mast are  three  triangular  sails — the  forestay-sail  (the 
same  as  the  foresail  of  a  sloop),  the  jib,  and  the  flying- 
jib.  Some  schooners  carry  one  or  two  square-sails  at 
the  foremast. 


z^^' 


FIFTH    READER.  51 

6.  The  Brig  is  generally  larger  than  the  schooner, 
but  its  distinctive  mark  is  that  it  has  two  masts,  both 
of  which  are  square-rigged.  The  Brigantine  is  squai'e- 
rigged  on  the  foremast,  and  sloop-rigged  on  the  main- 
mast. 

7.  Square-sails  are  named  after  the  masts  to  which 
they  are  attached.  Each  mast  in  a  square-rigged  vessel 
consists  of  three  parts,  which  are  spoken  of  as  three 
distinct  masts.     Thus  in  a  brig  there  are  the  following: 

Foremast.  Mainmast. 

Foretop-mast.  Maintop-mast. 

*Foret  op-gallant-mast.  Maintop-gallant-mast. 

The  sails,  accordingly,  are: 

Foresail.  Mainsail. 

Foretop-sail.  Maintop-sail. 

Foretop-gallant-sail.  Maintop-gallant-sail. 

Above  the  highest  of  these  sails  are  sometimes  addi- 
tional small  sails,  called  the  fore-royal  and  the  main- 
royal  respectively.     Double  topsails  are  usually  carried. 

8.  The  parts  of  a  mast  are  connected  and  secured 
by  means  of  cross-trees  and  caps.  The  cross-trees  are 
small  platforms  named  after  the  masts  to  which  they 
belong.  That  at  the  head  of  the  lower  mast  is  called 
the  foretop  or  the  maintop;  that  at  the  head  of  the 
topmast  the  foretop-mast  cross-trees,  or  the  maintop- 
mast  cross-trees.  The  cap  is  an  iron  band  by  which 
the  parts  of  the  mast  are  held  together.  The  button- 
like objects  at  the  summits  of  the  masts  are  called 
trucks.  Besides  forming  a  finish  to  the  masts,  they  are 
fitted  with  small  pulleys,  through  which  cords  for  hoist- 
ing flags  f signal  halyards)  are  rove. 

9.  The  thick  ropes  that  keep  the  masts  firmly  in 
position  are  called  shrouds  and  stays.  The  shrouds  ex- 
tend from  the  tops  to  the  sides  of  the  ship,  and  are 
fastened  to  blocks  called  dead-eyes.  Stays  which  extend 
forward  are  caUed  fore-and-aft  stays;   those  which  lead 


52  FIFTH    READER. 

to  the  side  of  the  vessel,  back-stays.      The  cross  ropes 
attached  to  the  shrouds  are  called  ratlines. 

10.  To  furl  a  sail  is  to  roll  it  up  and  secure  it.  To 
unfurl  it  is  to  shake  it  loose.  Yards  are  spars  to 
which  square-sails  are  attached.  The  little  ropes  which 
may  be  observed  hanging  in  rows  on  the  larger  sails, 
are  called  reef-points.  By  means  of  them  parts  of  sails 
are  gathered  in  and  fastened  to  the  yards,  thus  reducing 
the  amount  of  canvas  in  stormy  weather.  Hence  such 
expressions  as  ^Haking  in  a  reef/'  or  "a  double-reef/' 
and  "close-reeflng" — ^the  last  meaning  that  a  sail  is  to 
be  reduced  as  much  as  possible. 

11.  The  Bark  is  a  three-masted  vessel.  The  main- 
mast is  in  the  middle.  The  foremast  and  the  mainmast 
are  square-rigged.  The  mizzen  mast  is  rigged  fore-and- 
aft  like  a  sloop.  A  clipper-bark  is  merely  a  bark  made 
for  fast  sailing,  with  a  sharp  bow. 

12.  The  largest  class  of  vessels  is  the  full-rigged  Ship, 
the  distinctive  mark  of  which  is  that  it  has  three  niastSj 
all  square-rigged.  The  parts  and  sails  of  the  foremast 
and  mainmast  bear  the  same  names  as  those  of  the  brig. 
The  parts  of  the  mizzen  mast  are  the  mizzen  mast  proper, 
the  mizzentop-mast,  and  the  mizzentop-gallant-mast. 

13.  The  sails  bear  corresponding  names.  There  is, 
however,  on  the  mizzen  mast  a  fore-and-aft  sail  called 
the  spanker,  projecting  over  the  quarter-deck.  Above 
the  royals  in  a  ship  are  still  smaller  sails  called  shy-sails. 
Sometimes  square-sails  have  additional  little  sails  or 
wings  on  each  side,  which  can  be  used  when  the  wind 
is  fair  and  light.  These  are  called  studding-sails ^  cor- 
rupted into  stuhi-sHs. 

14.  A  Frigate  is  a  man-of-war  having  usually  two 
gun-decks,  and  carrying  from  thirty  to  fifty  guns.  A 
Sloop-of-War  is  smaller,  carrying  from  sixteen  to  twenty- 
four  guns,  on  its  upper-deck.  A  small  sloop,  carrying 
fewer  than  twenty  guns,  is  called  a  Corvette. 


FIFTH    READER. 


53 


15.  Iron-clads  are  so  called,  because  their  sides  are 
covered  with  thick  plates  of  iron  or  steel,  capable  of 
resisting  very  heavy  shot.  The  thickness  of  the  armor- 
plates  of  the  latest  iron-clads  varies  from  eighteen  to 
twenty-four  inches.  As  the  offensive  power  of  guns  has 
increased,  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  increase  also 
the  defensive  power  of  ships. 

16.  The  number  of  guns  carried  by  these  ships  is 
very  much  smaller  than  in  the  case  of  the  old  three- 
deckers  j  but  the  weight  and  caUber  of  the  few  guns 
they  carry  are  enormous.  Some  of  them  carry  their 
guns  in  iron  tun'ets  placed  on  deck,  which  revolve  by 
machinery,  so  that  the  guns  Van  be  fired  in  any  direc- 
tion, no  matter  how  the  ship  is.  lying.  These  are  called 
turret-ships  or  monitors. 


l>EFINITIONS. 


bow'sprit,  the  spar  which  projects 
from  the  bow  of  a  ship, 

cal'i  ber,  the  diameter  of  the  bore 
of  a  gun. 

hal'yard,  a  rope  by  which  yards, 
sails,  flags,  etc.,  are  hoisted. 

stay'-sail,  a  sail  that  works  on  a 
stay. 

foretop,  maintop.  Note  that  these 
are  the  names  of  the  cross-trees 
or  platforms,  not  of  the  masts. 


hull,  the  body  of  a  vessel,  exclu- 
sive of  masts  and  rigging. 

stem,  the  forward  part  of  a  vessel. 

ar'mor,  the  steel  or  iron  covering 
of  ships  of  war. 

miz^zen  mast,  the  mast  between 
the  mainmast  and  the  stem. 

quar'ter-deck,  that  part  of  the  deck 
extending  from  the  stem  to  the 
mainmast. 

stem,  the  after  part  of  a  vessel. 


WRITTEN 

SPELI.ING.— WORDS    OFTEN 

MISSPEULED. 

balance 

brevet 

mjT^le 

sickle 

brilliance 

vignette 

turtle 

nickel 

sirloin 

cadet 

ripple 

dollar 

surname 

rosette 

triple 

scholar 

surfeit 

driblet 

couple 

molar 

certain 

coquette 

supple 

sulphur 

54  FIFTH    READER. 


III.  VOCAL  TRAINING. — Inflection  and  Emphasis. 

Introductory  Eemarks.  In  the  lower -grade  classes, 
children  learn  to  read  easy  lessons  "naturally,"  that  is, 
without  rules  or  principles.  They  learn  partly  by  imi- 
tating the  teacher,  and  partly  by  using  the  easy  tones 
of  conversation.  But,  in  the  higher  grammar  grades, 
it  is  desirable  that  pupils  should  learn  the  elementary 
principles  or  rules  that  govern  good  reading. 

While  there  are  a  few  teachers  who  think  that  it  is 
not  possible  to  teach  reading  by  means  of  rules,  the 
great  majority  of  instructors  recognize  that  it  is  quite 
as  necessary  to  deal  with  principles  in  elocution,  as  it 
is  in  arithmetic  or  grammar. 

"Any  art,"  says  Professor  William  Russell,  "which 
is  grounded  on  recognized  principles,  may,  certainly,  be 
taught  by  rules  deduced  from  these  principles.  Every 
teacher  who  corrects  the  emphasis,  the  inflections,  or  the 
pauses,  which  his  pupils  use  in  reading,  must  have,  in 
every  instance,  a  reason  for  his  correction.  All  such 
reasons  are  rules  5  and  these  it  is  the  duty  of  the  teacher 
to  impart.  These,  in  fact,  are  themselves  the  instructions 
which  he  has  to  give. 

"Every  attentive  teacher  of  reading  will  endeavor  to 
put  his  pupils  in  possession  of  even  those  less  palpable 
principles  which  regulate  the  nicest  modulations  of  the 
voice,  in  the  most  delicate  tones  of  feeling.  But,  in 
the  applications  of  inflection,  emphasis,  and  pause,  which 
determine  the  meaning  of  every  sentence  of  audible 
language,  a  definite  ride  is  indispensable  to  inteUigible 
or  effective  instruction." 

Inflection,  as  the  term  is  used  in  elocution,  is  an  up- 
ward or  downward  slide  of  the  voice  on  the  emphatic 
words  of  a  sentence.  Emphasis  is  a  special  force  of 
voice  appUed  to  the  most  expressive  words. 


FIFTH    READER.  55 

Words  that  are  read  with  a  marked  rising  or  falling 
inflection,  are  also  emphatic  words  5  and  the  stronger 
the  emphasis,  the  more  marked  is  the  inflection.  In- 
flection may,  therefore,  be  considered  as  one  form  of 
emphasis. 

FORMS     OF    INFLECTION. 

The  rising  inflection,  indicated  by  the  acute  accent 
( ' ),  is  used  in  direct  questions,  and,  in  general,  when- 
ever the  sense  is  incomplete. 

The  falling  inflection,  indicated  by  the  grave  accent  ( ^ ), 
is  used  in  complete  declarative,  exclamatory,  or  very 
emphatic  statements,  and,  in  general,  wherever  the  sense 
is  compute^  or  does  not  depend  on  something  to  follow. 

The  circumflex^  a  combination  of  the  rising  and  falling 
inflections  on  the  same  sound  or  word,  indicated  thus, 
[^  or  ^  ),  is  used  in  surprise,  sarcasm,  irony,  wit,  humor, 
and  in  expressing  a  pun,  or  a  double  meaning.  The 
rising  circumflex  is  used  in  place  of  the  direct  rising 
inflection  to  add  force  to  the  emphasis,  and  the  falling 
circumflex  in  place  of  the  direct  falling  inflection. 

The  monotone  ( — ),  that  is,  one  uniform  tone,  is 
merely  the  absence  of  any  marked  rising  or  faUing  slide 
above  or  below  the  general  level  of  the  sentence. 

THE    UPWARD    AND    DOWNWARD    SI.IDES. 

The  length  of  the  rising  or  the  falling  inflection,  in 
ascendbig  or  descending  the  scale,  depends  on  the  force 
of  the  idea,  or  strength  of  the  emotion  to  be  expressed, 
indicated,  in  general,  by  the  emphasis  to  be  applied.  The 
degrees,  of  inflection  may  be  roughly  indicated  as  cor- 
responding to  the  second,  third,  fifth,  and  eighth  notes 
of  the  musical  scale,  including  the  semitones,  or  chromatic 
notes  of  the  minor,  second,  third,  fifth,  and  eighth  notes. 

Teachers  that  understand  vocal  music  will  represent 
these  shdes  by  a  blackboai'd  diagram. 


56     '  FIFTH    READER. 


I.       INFLECTION    DKELI.. 

1.  Repeat  tlie  long  vowel  sounds,  a,  e,  i,  o,  ii:  (1) 
With  the  slight  rising  inflection.  (2)  Falling.  (3)  Ris- 
ing circumflex.    (4)  Falling  circumflex.    (5)  Monotone. 

2.  The  same  with  the  high  rising  inflection  5  the 
strong  falling  inflection  5  emphatic  circumflex. 

3.  Count  to  fifty,  with  alternate  rising  and  fall- 
ing inflection,  thus:  one,  two,  etc. 

4.  Repeat  each  of  the  long  vowels  three  times,  thus : 
ii,  a,  a, — (1)  With  the  rising  inflection.  (2)  Falling. 
(3)  Circumflex.     (4)  Monotone. 

5.  Repeat  five  times  with  high  rising  circumflex: 
all!  indeed! 


n.      INFI.ECTION    DKXLI.. 

1.  Repeat  five  times  with  the  rising  fifth  on  ali^ 
and  the  eighth  on  indeed:  dli!  indeed! 

2.  Repeat    five    times    with   the    rising   fifth:    dli! 
ah!  ah! 

3.  Repeat   five    times    with    the    falling    fifth,   oh! 
oh!  oh! 

4.  Seems,  Madam! — nay,  it  is! 

5.  I  would  never  lay  down  my  arms  5    never,  never, 
never ! 

6.  ^^  Green !^'    cries    the    other    in    a    fury.     "Why, 
sir,  d'ye  think  I've  lost  my  eyes?" 

7.  Rising  eighth  and  falling  eighth:  e,  a,  in). 

8.  O  7i6h1e  judge!     O  exceUetit  young  man! 

9.  O  wise  young  judge,  how  I  do  honor  thee! 
10.    And  dar'st  thou  then 

To  beard  the  lion  in  his  denf 
The  Douglas  in  his  hallf 


FIFTH    READER.  57 


m.      INFLECTION    DRILL,    OF    VOCALS. 

Ready  in  concert^  the  words  of  the  following  table: 

1.  With  the  rising  inflection. 

2.  With  the  falling  inflection, 

3.  With  the  rising  circumflex, 

4.  With  the  falling  circumflex. 

il,  0. — rde,  made,  braid,  gauge,  veil,  play,  weight, 
ii. — alms,  chart,  heart,  laugh,  haunt,  aunt,  path, 
a,  o. — ^all,  awe,  law,  fall,  haul,  bawl,  -crawl,  ought, 
a. — add,  that,  brat,  hand,  land,  plaid,  bade, 
a,  e. — air,  bare,  dare,  prayer,  there,  hair,  scarce, 
a. — ask,  -cask,  task,  pass,  grass,  dance,  glance, 
a,  6. — what,  spot,  wad,  wand,  was,  watch. 
e. — eat,  beat,  beet,  the§e,  seize,  freeze,  leave§. 
e. — end,  let,  threat,  get,  gem,  bread,  yet,  said. 
e,  i. — verge,  heard,  learn,  earn,  err,  first,  thirst. 
e,  a.-^they,  weigh,  nay,  neigh,  sleigh,  prey,  pray, 
i. — ^ige,  isle,  aisle,  wine,  height,  while,  rhjTne. 
1. — ^ill,  it,  win,  thin,  been,  gin,  since,  zinc. 

I,  e. — whir,  sir,  dirt,  verse,  berth,  earl,  earth, 
i,  e. — pique,  -clique,  -creek,  oblique',  ravine'. 
6. — old,  tho§e,  groan,  force,  pour,  roar,  more, 
o. — odd,  on,  blot,  spot,  got,  god,  rod,  phlox. 

o,  (K),  u. — move,  proof,  lo§e,  loose,  rwf,  choo§e. 
6,  a. — or,  n6r,  war,  for,  lord,  -cord,  fought,  -caught. 
6,  li. — done,  doth,  dost,  diist,  blood,  flood,  ^ome. 
o,  do,  u. — wolf,  woidd,  wood,  could,  should,  g(K)d. 
ii. — fi§e,  mute,  mii§e,  feud,  lieu,  view,  new,  few. 

II,  6. — up,  biit,  hiit,  son,  blood,  giin,  diick,  some, 
ii. — urge,  purge,  surge,  curd,  urn,  burn,  churn, 
u,  6o,  o. — ^rule,  s-ehool,  brute,  route,  wound,  rude. 
11,  (>6,  o. — ^piit,  pull,  push,  bull,  wot)l,  wolf,  fo6t. 
oi,  oy. — oil,  toy,  boil,  -eoil,  roil,  joy,  boy,  -eloy. 
ou,  ow. — out,  noun,  proud,  now,  how,  gout,  pout. 


58  FIFTH    READER. 


18.     ALFRED    TENNYSON. 

1.  Alfred  Tennyson,  the  present  Poet  Laureate  of  Eng- 
land, is  the  son  of  a  clergyman,  and  was  born  in  Somersby, 
England,  in  1809.  He  began  to  write  tales  and  verses 
from  the  time  he  could  use  a  pen.  He  resided  in  Lon- 
don during  the  first  twenty  years  of  his  poetic  career, 
and  has  since  1851  lived  mostly  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
There  is  nothing  eventful  in  his  biography,  and  beyond 
a  small  circle  he  is  seldom  met.  His  earliest  poems  did 
not  attract  much  attention,  and  it  was  not  until  1842 
that  he  estabhshed  his  reputation  as  the  first  li\'ing 
poet  of  England. 

2.  He  is  the  most  musical  and  picturesque  of  poets. 
His  descriptions  of  scenery  are  like  the  unrolling  of  a 
panorama  of  beautiful  landscapes.  One  is  struck  with 
the  beauty  and  force  of  the  Saxon  words,  which  the 
poet  uses  in  preference  to  any  other  element  in  our 
language.  He  delights  to  sing  of  heroic  deeds,  and  to 
celebrate  noble  souls. 

3.  Read  "  The  May  Queen,"  "  The  Miller's  Daughter," 
"The  Death  of  the  Old  Year,"  "Ring  Out,  Wild  Bells," 
"Dora,"  "Enoch  Arden,"  "The  Holy  Gfad,"  and  "In 
Memoriam." 


19.     CHARG-E    OF    THE    LIG-HT   BRIGADE. 

Bead  this  poem  to  the  class,  line  hy  line,  and  require  pupils  to  repeat 
after  you;  next,  let  each  pupil  read  one  stanza  from  the  platform,  and 
then  require  the  class  to  memorize  the  poem  for  recitation. 

1.    Half  a  league,  half  a  league, 

Half  a  league  onward, 

AU  in  the  vaUey  of  death. 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 


FIFTH    READER.  59 

"Forward,  the  Light  Brigade: 
Charge  for  the  guns!"  he  said. 
Into  the  valley  of  death, 
Rode  the  six  hundred. 

2.  "Forward,  the  Light  Brigade !'' 
Was  there  a  man  dismayed? 
Not  though  the  sokliers  hiew 

Some  one  had  bh'mdered; 
Theirs  not  to  make  reply. 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why, 
Theirs  but  to  do  and  die: 
Into  the  valley  of  death, 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 

3.  Cannon  to  right  of  them, 
Cannon  to  left  of  them, 
C'annon  in  front  of  them. 

Volleyed  and  thundered: 
Stormed  at  with  shot  and  shelly 
Boldly  they  rode  and  Avell; 
Into  the  jaws  of  death. 
Into  the  mouth  of  hell. 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 

4.  Flashed  all  their  sabres  bare, 
Flashed  as  they  turned  in  air, 
Sab'ring  the  gunners  there. 
Charging  an  army,  while 

AH  the  world  wondered: 
Plunged  in  the  battery  smoke, 
Right  through  the  line  they  broke-. 
Cossack  and  Russian 
Reeled  from  the  saber-stroke, 

Shattered  and  sundered. 
Then  they  rode  back,  but  not, 

Kot  the  six  hundred. 


60  FIFTH    READER. 

5.    Cannon  to  right  of  them, 
Cannon  to  left  of  them, 
Cannon  behind  them, 

Volleyed  and  thundered: 
Stormed  at  with  shot  and  shell, 
While  horse  and  hero  fell, 
They  that  had  fought  so  well, 
Came  through  the  jaws  of  death, 
Back  from  the  mouth  of  heU, 
All  that  was  left  of  them, 

Left  of  six  hundi'ed. 

G.    When  can  their  glory  fade! 
O,  the  wild  charge  they  made! 

All  the  world  wondered. 
Honor  the  charge  they  made! 
Honor  the  Light  BriyddCy 

Noble  six  hiindred! 

Alfrkd  Tennyson. 


20.      SUPPLEMENTARY    READING-. 

From  one  of  the  following  books  or  periodicals,  select 
some  interesting  extract,  and  let  each  pupil  read  one  or 
more  paragraphs  or  stanzas:  St.  Nicholas,  Tennyson^ s 
Poems,  Haivthorne\s  True  Stories,  YoutWs  Companion,  The 
Century,  Harper\^  Monthly. 

Defining  Match.  Choose  sides.  Select  words  from  all  previous  defin- 
ing lessons. 

8 


AVKITTEN    SPELLING.— WORDS    OFTEN   MISSPELLED. 

analyze  enterprise      compromise       advertise 

pulverize  paralyze         catechise  exercise 

merchandise     civihze  supervise  capitalize 


FIFTH    READER.   '  61 


21.     ABOUT   RIVERS. 

Mark  this  piece  for  inflection,  emphasis,  and  pauses,  as  the  first 
IHiragraph  is  marked. 

1.  Let  us  trace  a  river  |  to  its  source.  Beginning 
where  it  empties  itself  into  the  sea,  and  following  it 
backwards,  we  find  it  from  time  to  time  joined  by 
tributaries  |  which  swell  its  wters.  The  river  |  of 
course  |  becomes  smaller  |  as  these  tributaries  |  are 
jiassed.  It  shrinks  |  first  |  to  a  brook,  then  |  to  a  stream ; 
tliis  again  divides  itself  |  into  a  number  of  streamlets, 
ending  |  in  mere  threads  of  water. 

2.  These  constitute  the  soui'ce  of  the  river,  and  are 
usually  found  among  hills.  Thus,  the  Severn  has  its 
source  in  the  Welsh  mountains  5  the  Thames,  in  the 
Cotswold  Hills 5  the  Missouri,  in  the  Rocky  Mountains; 
and  the  Amazon,  in  the  Andes  of  Peru.  But  it  is  quite 
plain  that  we  have  not  yet  reached  the  real  beginning 
of  the  rivers.  Whence  do  the  earliest  streams  derive 
their  water! 

3.  A  brief  residence  among  the  mountains  would  prove 
to  you  that  the  streams  are  fed  by  rains.  In  dry  weather 
you  would  find  the  streams  feeble;  sometimes,  indeed, 
quite  dried  up.  In  wet  weather  you  would  see  them 
foaming  torrents.  In  general,  these  streams  lose  them- 
selves as  little  threads  of  water  upon  the  hill-sides. 

4.  Sometimes  you  may  trace  a  river  to  a  definite 
spring.  But  you  very  soon  assure  yourself  that  such 
springs  are  also  fed  by  rain,  which  has  percolated  through 
the  rocks  or  soil,  and  which,  through  some  orifice  that 
it  has  found  or  formed,  comes  to  the  light  of  day.  But 
we  cannot  end  here. 

5.  Whence  comes  the  rain  that  forms  the  mountain 
streams?  Observation  enables  you  to  answer  the  ques- 
tion.    Rain  does  not  come  from  a  clear  sky.     It  comes 


62    .  ■  FIFTH    READER. 

from  clouds.  But  what  are  clouds?  Is  there  nothing 
you  are  acquainted  with  which  they  resemble?  You 
discover  at  once  a  likeness  between  them  and  the  con- 
densed steam  of  a  locomotive. 

6.  At  every  puff  of  the  engine  a  cloud  is  projected  into 
the  air.  Watch  the  cloud  shai*ply.  You  notice  that  it 
first  forms  at  a  httle  distance  from  the  top  of  the  funnel. 
Give  close  attention  and  you  will  sometimes  see  a  perfectly 
clear  space  between  the  funnel  and  the  cloud.  Through 
that  clear  space  the  thing  which  makes  the  cloud  must 
pass. 

7.  What,  then,  is  this  thing  which  at  one  moment  is 
transparent  and  invisible,  and  at  the  next  moment  visible 
as  a  dense  opaque  cloud!  It  is  the  steam  or  vapor  of 
water  from  the  boiler.  Within  the  boiler  this  steam  is 
transparent  and  invisible;  but  to  keep  it  in  this  invisible 
state,  a  heat  would  be  required  as  great  as  that  within 
the  boiler. 

8.  When  the  vapor  mingles  with  the  cold  air  above 
the  hot  funnel,  it  ceases  to  be  vapor.  Every  bit  of  steam 
shrinks,  when  chilled,  to  a  much  more  minute  particle 
of  water.  The  liquid  particles  thus  produced  form  a  kind 
of  tvater  dust  of  exceeding  fineness,  Avhich  floats  in  the 
air,  and  is  called  a  cloud. 

9.  Watch  the  cloud -banner  from  the  funnel  of  a 
running  locomotive:  you  see  it  growing  gradually  less 
dense.  It  finally  melts  away  altogether;  and,  if  you 
continue  your  observations,  you  wiU  not  fail  to  notice 
that  the  speed  of  its  disappearance  depends  on  the 
character  of  the  day. 

10.  In  moist  weather  the  cloud  hangs  long  and  lazily 
in  the  air;  in  dry  weather  it  is  rapidly  licked  up.  What 
has  become  of  it!  It  has  been  reconverted  into  true 
invisible  vapor.  The  drier  the  air,  and  the  hotter  the  air, 
the  greater  is  the  amount  of  cloud  which  can  be  thus 
dissolved  in  it. 


FIFTH    READER.  63 

11.  Make  the  lid  of  a  kettle  air-tight,  and  permit  the 
steam  to  issue  from  the  pipej  a  cloud  is  formed  in  all 
respects  similar  to  that  which  issues  from  the  funnel  of 
the  locomotive.  To  produce  the  cloud,  in  the  case  of  the 
locomotive  and  the  kettle,  heat  is  necessary.  By  heating 
the  water  we  first  convert  it  into  steam,  and  then  by 
chilling  the  steam  we  convert  it  into  cloud. 

12.  Is  there  any  fire  in  nature  which  produces  the 
clouds  of  our  atmosphere  ?  There  is — the  fire  of  the  sun. 
Thiis,  by  tracing  a  river  backwards  from  its  end  to  its 
real  beginning,  we  come  at  length  to  the  sun. 

John  Tynpall. 

Composition.  Without  looking  on  the  book,  write  a  short  abstract  of 
this  piece  from  memory. 


22.     PASSAGES   FROM   SHAKESPEARE. 

I.   MERCY. — PORTIA  TO  SHYLOCK. 

The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained; 

It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 

Upon  the  place  beneath;   it  is  twice  blest; 

It  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes: 

'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest;   it  becomes 

The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown. 

His  scepter  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 

The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 

Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings; 

But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptered  sway; 

It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  kings; 

It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himseK; 

An  earthly  power  doth  then  show  Hkest  God's, 

When  mercy  seasons  justice.     Therefore,  Jew, 

Though  justice  be  thy  plea,  consider  this, — 

That,  in  the  course  of  justice,  none  of  us 

Should  see  salvation:  we  do  pray  for  mercy; 


G4  FIFTH     READER. 

And  that  same  prayer  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 
The  deeds  of  mercy. 

II.      SUSPICION. 

Let  me  have  men  about  me  that  are  fat; 
Sleek-headed  men,  and  such  as  sleep  o'  nights : 
Yond'  Cassius  has  a  lean  and  hungry  look, 
He  thinks  too  much: — such  men  are  dangerous. 
Would  he  were  fatter!     But  I  fear  him  not; 
Yet  if  my  name  were  liable  to  fear, 
I  do  not  know  the  man  I  should  avoid 
So  soon  as  that  spare  Cassius.     He  reads  much; 
He  is  a  great  observer,  and  he  looks 
Quite  through  the  deeds  of  men :  he  loves  no  plays, 
As  thou  dost,  Antony;  he  hears  no  music; 
Seldom  he  smiles;  and  smiles  in  such  a  sort. 
As  if  he  mocke*d  himself,  and  scorned  his  spirit. 
That  could  be  moved  to  smile  at  anything. 
Such  men  as  he  be  never  at  heart's  ease 
While  they  behold  a  greater  than  themselves; 
And  therefore  are  they  very  dangerous. 
I  rather  tell  thee  what  is  to  be  feared. 
Than  what  I  fear;  for  always  I  am  Caesar. 
Come  on  my  right  hand, — for  this  ear  is  deaf, — 
And  tell  me  truly  what  thou  think'st  of  him. 

III.       THE   CHARACTER   OF   BRUTUS. 

JJhis  was  the  noblest  Roman  of  them  all: 

All  the  conspirators,  save  only  he, 

Did  that  they  did  in  envy  of  great  Caesar; 

He  only,  in  a  general  honest  thought. 

And  common  good  to  all,  made  one  of  them. 

His  life  was  gentle;   and  the  elements 

So  mixed  in  him,  that  Nature  might  stand  up. 

And  say  to  all  the  world,  ''This  was  a  man!" 


FIFTH    READER.  65 


23.     SCROOG-E'S   CHRISTMAS. 

1.  "A  merry  Christmas,  uncle!     God  save  you!^' 
"Bah!   humbug!" 

"Christmas' a  humbug,  uncle!  You  don't  mean  that, 
I  am  sure  ! '' 

2.  "I  do.  Out  upon  merry  Christmas!  What's  Christ- 
mas time  to  you  but  a  time  for  paying  bills  without 
money;  a  time  for  finding  yourself  a  year  older,  and  not 
an  hour  richer;  a  time  for  balancing  your  books,  and 
ha\ing  every  item  in  'em  through  a  round  dozen  of 
months  presented  dead  against  you?  If  I  had  my  will, 
every  idiot  who  goes  about  with  'Merry  Christmas'  on  liis 
lips  should  be  boiled  with  liis  own  pudding,  and  buried 
with  a  stake  of  holly  through  his  heart.     He  should ! " 

3.  "Uncle!" 

"Nephew,  keep  Christmas  time  in  yoiu*  own  way, 
and  let  me  keep  it  in  mine." 

"Keep  it!     But  you  don't  keep  it!" 

"Let  me  leave  it  alone,  then.  Much  good  may  it  do 
you!     Much  good  it  has  ever  done  you!" 

4.  "There  are  many  good  things  from  which  I  might 
have  derived  good,  by  which  I  have  not  profl.ted,  I  dare 
say,  Christmas  among  the  rest.  But  I  am  sure  I  have 
always  thought  of  Christmas  time,  when  it  has  come 
round, — apart  from  the  veneration  due  to  its  sacred 
origin,  if  anything  belonging  to  it  can  be  apart  from 
that,  —  as  a  good  time;  a  kind,  forgiving,  charitable, 
pleasant  time;  the  only  time  I  know  of,  in  the  long 
calendar  of  the  year,  when  men  and  women  seem  by  one 
consent  to  open  their  shut  hearts  freely,  and  to  think 
of  people  below  them  as  if  they  really  were  fellow- 
travelers  to  the  grave,  and  not  another  race  of  creatures 
bound  on  other  journeys.  And  therefore,  uncle,  though 
it  has  never  put  a  scrap  of  gold  or  silver  in  my  pocket, 


66  FIFTH    READERo 

I  believe  that  it  has  done  me  good  and  will  do  me  good, 
and  I  say,  God  bless  it!" 

5.  "You're  quite  a  powerful  speaker,  sirj  I  wonder 
you  don't  go  into  Parliament." 

"Don't  be  angry,  uncle.  Come!  Dine  with  us  to- 
morrow." 

"I'll  see  you  hanged  first." 

"But  why,  uncle?     WhyT' 

"Why  did  you  get  married?" 

^^  Because  I  fell  in  love." 

"  Because  you  fell  in  love  ! — Good-afternoon  ! " 

6.  "Nay,  uncle,  but  you  never  came  to  see  me  before 
that  happened.  Why  give  it  as  a  reason  for  not  coming 
now?" 

"  Good-afternoon  I " 

"I  want  nothing  from  you;    I  ask  nothing  of  you; 
why  cannot  we  be  friends?" 
"  Good-afternoon ! " 

7.  "I  am  sorry,  with  all  my  heart,  to  find  you  so 
resolute.  But  I  have  made  the  trial  in  homage  to 
Christmas,  and  I'll  keep  my  Christmas  humor  to  the 
last.     So,  a  merry  Christmas,  uncle  ! " 

"  Good-afternoon ! " 

"And  a  happy  New-Year!" 

"  Good-afternoon ! " 

Dickens's  Cliristmas  Carol. 

Supplementary  Reading.  If  the  Christmas  Carol  is  in  the  library, 
let  the  class  read  extended  extracts  from  that  most  delightful  story. 


9 

WRITTEN 

ballad 
salad 
valid 
pallid 

SPEI.I.ING.- 

plumber 
drummer 
ermine 
vermin 

WORDS  OFTEN 

ganger 
wager 
seizure 
leisure 

]\riSSPEI.I.ED. 

copy 
poppy 
forage 
porridge 

FIFTH    READER.  67 


IV,     VOCAL    Ti^AJiVTiV^^.— Rules  of  Inflection. 

Eiile  I.  Direct  questions  that  are  answered  hy  yes  or 
NO,  (fenerally  require  the  rising  inflection^  and  their  atiswerSj 
the  falling  inflection. 

1.  Will  you  lend  me  a  hiifef    Kd,  I  have  none. 

2.  Have  you  recited  your  lesson  f     Yes.  we  have. 

3.  Armed',  say  you!     Armed^,  my  lord. 

Require  each  pupil  to  find,  in  this  book,  two  additional  examples  to 
illustrate  this  ride,  and  to  read  them  in  the  class. 

Rule  II.  Indirect  questions,  or  those  that  cannot  he 
answered  by  yes  or  no,  generally  require  the  falling  in- 
flection. 

1.  What  is  your  name?     Thomas. 

2.  Where  are  you  going  f     To  London. 

3.  What  are  you  doing?     Reading. 

4.  Who's  here  so  rude,  that  would  not  be  a  Roman  f 

5.  Who's  here  so  vile,  that  will  not  love  his  country? 

Bequire  each  pupil  to  select  and  read  in  the  class  two  additional 
illustrations  of  this  rule. 

Rule  III.  Incomplete  statements j  or  phrases  and  clauses 
that  depend  on  something  to  folloiv,  require  the  rising 
inflection. 

1.  There  is  no  flock,  however  watched  and  tended, 

But  one  dead  lamb  is  there! 
There  is  no  fireside  howsoe'er  defended, 
But  has  one  vacant  chdir! 

2.  A  peacock  came  with  plumage  gay, 
Before  a  cottage  door,  one  day, 
Beneath  a  httle  bird,  whose  song, 

From  out  his  cage,  had  charmed  the  throng. 


68  P^IFTH    READER. 

3.  When  Freedom,  from  her  mountain  height, 

Unfurled  her  standard  to  the  air,    * 
She  tore  the  azure  robe  of  night, 
And  set  the  stars  of  glory  there. 

4.  We  wish  that  this  column,  rising  toward  heaven, 
among  the  pointed  spires  of  so  many  temples  dedicated 
to  G-od,  may  contribute,  also,  to  produce,  in  all  minds, 
a  pious  feeling  of  dependence  and  gratitude.  We  wish, 
finally,  that  the  last  object  on  the  sight  of  him  who 
leaves  his  native  shore,  and  the  first  to  gladden  his  who 
revisits  it,  may  be  something  which  shall  i*emind  him 
of  the  liberty  and  the  glory  of  his  country. 

Webster. 

Rule  lY,  Positive  statements  and  strong  emphasis 
incline  the  voice  to  the  falling  inflection. 

1.  The  charge  is  utterly,  totally,  and  nieanly  false. 

2.  How  heautifid  is  night! 

3.  Eloquence  is  action, — noble,  sublime,  godlike  action. 

4.  For  life,  for  life,  their  flight  they  ply. 

5.  There  is  no  retreat  but  in  submission  and  slavery. 
The  war  is  inevitable,  and  let  it  come.  I  repeat  it,  sir, 
let  it  come. 

6.    Konor  the  chdrge  they  made. 
Honor  the  Light  Brigade, — 
Noble  six  hundred. 

7.  Strike — till  the  last  armed  foe  expires; 
Strike — for  your  altars  and  your  fires; 
Strike — for  the  green  graves^ of  your  sires; 

God — and  your  native  land! 

8.  Cto,  ring  the  bells,  and  fire  the  guns, 

And  fling  your  starry  bdnners  outj 
Shout  freedom — till  your  hsping  ones 
Give  back  their  cradle  shout. 


FIFTH    READER.  69 

Rule  Y.  Complete  statements^  whether  marked  off  hy 
the  commay  the  semicolon^  or  the  period,  generally  require 
the  falling  inflection. 

1.    Under  a  spreading  chestnut- tree 

The  village  smithy  stands; 
The  smith,  a  mighty  man  is  he, 

With  large  and  sinewy  hands; 
And  the  muscles  of  his  brawny  arms 

Are  strong  as  iron  bands. 

2.  The  awful  voice  of  the  storm  howls  through  the 
rigging.  The  laboring  masts  seem  straining  from  their 
base; — the  dismal  sound  of  the  pilmps  is  heard ;^ the 
ship  leaps,  as  it  were,  madly,  from  billow  to  billow;  — 
the  ocean  breaks,  and  settles  with  ingulfing  floods  over 
the  floating  dec^k,  and  beats  with  deadening,  shivering 
weight  against  the  staggered  vessel. 


Rule  VI.  Words  expressing  a  contrast  of  ideas  take 
opposite  inflections,  and  are  emphatic. 

1.  I  said  good,  not  bad;  virtuous,  not  vicious;  educated, 
not  illiterate. 

2.  He  spoke  for  education,  not  against  it. 

3.  Rome  and  Carthage !  Rome  with  her  army,  Carthage 
with  her  fleet;  Carthage,  old,  rich,  and  crafty,  —  Rome, 
young,  poor,  and  robust;  the  past,  and  the  future;  the 
spirit  of  discovery,  and  the  spirit  of  conquest;  the  genius 
of  commerce,  the  demon  of  war;  the  East  and  the  South 
on  one  side,  the  West  and  the  Worth  on  the  other;  in 
short,  two  worlds, — the  civilization  of  Africa,  and  the 
civilization  of  Ekrope. 

4.    After  the  shower,  the  tranquil  mn; 
Silver  stars  when  the  day  is  done. 


70  F[FTH    READER. 

After  the  snow,  the  emerald  leaves; 
After  the  harvest,  golden  sheaves; 

After  the  clouds,  the  violet  sl'y; 
Quiet  woods  when  the  wmds  go  by. 

After  the  tempest,  the  lull  of  waves; 
After  the  battle,  peaceful  graves. 

After  the  Jcnell,  the  wedding-heWs; 
Joyful  greetings  from  sad  farewells. 

After  the  hid,  the  radiant  7'dse; 
After  our  iveeping,  sweet  repose. 

After  the  hirden,  the  blissful  meed; 
After  the  furrow,  the  waking  seed. 

After  the  flight,  the  downy  nest; 
Beyond  the  shadowy  river — rest. 


Bute  YII.  The  circumflex  inflection  is  used  in  expressing 
mt,  humor,  surprise,  irony,  sarcasm,  ridicule,  and  very 
strong  contrast.  It  is  also  the  characteristic  inflection 
on  the  word  or  tvords  expressing  a  pun. 

When  the  circumflex  ends  with  the  rising  inflection,  it 
is  indicated  thus — "" ;  tvhen  it  ends  with  the  falling 
inflection,  it  is  marked  thus — ^. 

To  he  read  hy  the  teacher,  and  repeated  bij  the  class  in  concert. 

1.  Indeed!   is  it  really  so? 

2.  Oh!   you  are  a  coward;  you  don't  dare  to  go. 

3.  If  the  great  Captain  of  Plymouth  is  so  very  eager 

to  wed  me, 
Why  does  he  not  come  himself,  and  take  the  trouble 

to  tvoo  me? 
If   I   am   not  worth   the   wooing,  I   surely  am   not 

worth  the  tvvnning! 


FIFTH    READER.  71 


TACT  AND    TALENT. 


Talent  is  something,  but  tact  is  everij\h\n^.  Talent  is 
serious,  s6ber,  grave,  and  respectable :  tact  is  all  tlmtj  and 
more  too.  It  is  not  a  sixth  sensCj  but  it  is  the  life  of 
all  the  five.  It  is  the  open  eye,  the  quick  ^ar^  the 
judging  tclste,  the  keen  s7neUy  and  the  lively  touch;  it 
is  the  interpreter  of  all  riddles,  the  surmounter  of  aU 
difficulties,  the  remover  of  all  obstacles. 

It  is  useful  in  all  places,  and  at  all  times;  it  is  use- 
ful in  solitude,  for  it  shows  a  man  into  the  world;  it 
is  useful  in  society,  for  it  shows  him  his  way  through 
the  world. 

Talent  is  power,  tact  is  sMll;  talent  is  weight,  tact  is 
momentum;  talent  knows  tvhdt  to  do,  tact  knows  hotv  to 
do  it;  talent  makes  a  man  respectable,  tact  will  make 
him  respected;  talent  is  wealth,  tact  is  ready  money. 
For  aU  the  practical  purposes,  tact  carries  it  against 
talent,  ten  to  one. 

5,      PITT'S   REPLY  TO   WALPOLE. 

But  youth  is  not  my  only  crime;  I  am  accused  of 
acting  a  theatrical  part.  A  theatrical  part  may  either 
imply  some  pecidiarity  of  gesture,  or  a  dissimuldtion  of 
my  real  sentiments,  and  an  adoption  of  the  opinions  and 
language  of  another  man.  In  the  first  sense,  the  charge 
is  too  trifling  to  be  confuted;  and  deserves  only  to  be 
mentioned,  that  it  may  be  despised. 

I  am  at  liberty,  like  every  other  man,  to  use  my  own 
language;  and  though,  perhaps,  I  may  have  some  am- 
bition to  please  this  gentleman,  I  shall  not  lay  myself 
under  any  restraint^  nor  very  solicitously  copy  Ms  dic- 
tion or  his  mien,  however  matured  by  age  or  modeled 
by  experience. 

Require  each  pupil  to  find  in  some  part  of  this  Reader  an  addi- 
tional illustration  of  the  circumfiex. 


72  FIFTH    READER. 

Rule  YIII.  The  monotone  is  one  uniform  tone,  tvithout 
either  a  marked  rising  or  falling  inflection.  It  is  indi- 
cated by  a  short  line  (  -  )  ooer  the  vowel  sounds. 

The  monotone  is  required  in  the  expression  of  solemnity, 
reverence,  melancholy ,  or  sadnsss. 

1.    Break,  break,  break, 

On  thy  cold  gray  stones,  O  sea! 
Break,  break,  break. 
At  the  foot  of  thy  crags,  O  sea! 

2.    I  could  a  tale  unfold  whose  lightest  word 

Would  harrow  up  thy  soul;  freeze  thy  young  blood; 
Make  thy  two  eyes  start  from  their  spheres; 
Thy  knotted  and  combined  locks  to  part, 
And  each  particular  hair  to  stand  on  end. 
Like  quills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine. 

3.    High  on  a  throne  of  royal  state,  which  far 
Outshone  the  wealth  of  Ormus  and  of  Ind; 
Or  where  the  gorgeous  east,  with  richest    hand 
Showers  on  her  kings  barbaric  pearls  and  gold, 
Satan  exalted  sat. 

PHONIC    DRrLI.     ON    STIBVOCAI.S    AND    ASPIRATES. 

I.  Let  the  class  in  concert  give  the  phonic  spelling 
of  each  word  under  each  consonant  in  the  following 
table. 

II.  Let  each  pupil  give  the  phonic  spelling  of  one 
word. 

III.  In  concert,  let  the  class  pronounce  each  word 
very  distinctly  and  forcibly. 

IV.  Supplementary  drill  work  may  be  taken  by 
requiring  the  table  to  be  read  with  the  rising,  falling, 
or  circumflex  inflection;  also,  as  an  exercise  in  the 
different  degrees  of  force;  and  further,  as  an  exercise 
in  movement. 


FIFTH    READER.  73 


DRIIX    TABILE    OF   SUBVOCALS    AND    ASPIRATES. 

b. — bribe,  mob,  robe,  boom,  both,  babe. 

(1. — did,  add,  didst,  dried,  dreamed,  made. 

f  (ph,  gh). — ^fife,  off,  laugh,  phlox,  cough. 

g-—g^g,  gig,  egg,  ggt,  ^s,  gear,  gild. 

h. — ^home,  high,  horse,  hare,  heart,  hearth. 

J  (g)-— join,  jail,  gem,  gyves,  just,  gibes,  gill. 

k  (-e,  -eh,  q). — ^keel,  -eoke,  look,  «hyle,  queen,  disk. 

1. — liill,  loom,  oil,  wool,  yell,  well,  thrill. 

m. — maim,  mgn,  name,  loom,  hymn,  mine, 

n. — nmm,  nine,  knee,  knife,  noun,  knight. 

p. — ^l)ipe,  put,  rope,  loop,  pen,  page,  pump. 

r. — roar,  rare,  rear,  are,  ore,  ire,  more. 

s  (c;). — soon,  ^ease,  -erease,  pass,  ask,  mi^e. 

t. — tiirt,  trot,  twit,  trust,  treat,  tight,  tent. 

V  (f). — ^vane,  -eave,  of,  valve,  love,  vote,  eve. 

w. — we,  woe,  will,  wine,  wet,  was,  wind. 

X,  ks;  5,  gz. — ox,  box,  six,  sticks,  e^  act',  e:^  1st'. 

y.— ygt,  yes,  you,  yawl,  yacht,  youth,  young. 

z  (§). — zounds,  buzz,  maize,  ha§,  i§,  wa§,  zone§. 

th  sharp. — thank,  breath,  thin,  fifth,  oath. 

Ih  flat. — this,  that,  1he§e,  1ho§e,  with,  paths. 

ch  soft. — chin,  church,  cheese,  each,  beech,  peach. 

sh  sharj).— shall,  should,  l)ush,  ^haige,  ma  (,'liine'. 

ng  (n).— ring,  sing,  gang,  gong,  long,  Ink,  di-iink. 

z  =  zh. — az'ure,  rouge  (rdozh),  trea§'ure,  mea§'ure. 

wh  =  hw. — when,  where,  why,  what,  which,  while. 


74 


FIFTPI    READER. 


24.     SIR   WALTER   SCOTT. 


1.  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  bom  in  Edinburgh,  Scotland, 
in  1771.  At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  was  placed  in  the 
High  School  of  Edinburgh,  where  he  remained  for  four 
years.  He  was  not  regarded  as  a  very  bright  scholar, 
but  gave  evidence  of  special  delight  in  history,  poetry, 
fairy  tales,  and  romances.  Even  then  he  excelled  in 
devising  and  telling  stories. 

2.  He  was  afterwards  for  a  short  time  in  the  Univer- 
sity, but  left  it  without  adding  much  to  his  stock  of 
classical  knowledge.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  the  breaking 
of  a  blood-vessel  brought  on  a  fit  of  iUness,  during 
which  he  passed  his  time  in  a  perusal  of  old  romances, 


FIFTH    READEli.  75 

plaj^s,  and  ballads,  uiic.onsoiously  ainassing  materials  for 
his  future  writings. 

3.  In  1792  he  was  called  to  the  bar,  and  seven  years 
later  he  was  appointed  Sheriff,  and  then  Clerk  of  the 
Court  of  Sessions.  His  first  pubHeation  was  "  The  Min- 
strelsy of  the  Scottish  Border;'^  then  followed  "The  Lay 
of  the  Last  Minstrel,"  "Marniion,''  and  "The  Lady  of 
the  Lake."  In  1814  appeared  anonjrmously  "  Waverley," 
and  a  new  novel  appeared  every  year  till  1831. 

4.  These  prose  fictions  made  "The  Great  Unknown," 
as  he  was  caUed,  the  wonder  of  the  age.  He  became 
The  World's  Story-TeUer.  He  did  not  reveal  the  author- 
ship till  after  the  bankruptcy  of  his  publishers,  which 
involved  him  to  the  amount  of  more  than  $500,000. 

5.  This  great  amount  of  indebtedness  he  pledged  him- 
self to  pay  without  abatement,  and  heroically  did  he 
fulfiU  his  promise;  but  the  effort  cost  him  his  life.  His 
mind  gave  way  under  the  gigantic  toil  to  which  he  had 
doomed  himself,  and  he  died  at  Abbotsford,  in  1832. 

G.  His  works  are  among  the  classics  of  the  English 
language.  R.  H.  Hutton  says  of  his  novels:  "You 
can  hardly  read  any  novel  of  Scott's  and  not  become 
better  aware  what  pubHc  life  and  public  issues  mean. 
The  boldness  and  freshness  of  the  present  are  carried 
back  into  the  past,  and  you  see  Papists  and  Puritans, 
Cavaliers  and  Roundheads,  Jews,  Jacobites,  and  free- 
booters, preachers,  school -masters,  mercenary  soldiers, 
gypsies,  and  beggars,  all  living  the  sort  of  life  which 
the  reader  feels  that  in  their  circumstances,  and  under 
the  same  conditions  of  time  and  place,  and  parentage, 
he,  too,  might  have  lived." 

7.  His  nature  was  manly,  open,  tolerant,  and  kindly. 
"He  died,"  said  Gladstone,  "a  great  man,  and,  what  is 
more,  a  good  man.  He  has  left  us  a  double  treasure: 
the  memory  of  himself,  and  the  possession  of  his  works." 
Read  "  Tlie  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  "  Ivanhoe." 


76  FIFTH    READER. 


25.     THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE. 

[The  scene  of  this  poem  is  laid  in  the  vicinity  of  Loch  Katrine,  in  the  Highlands 
of  Scotland; — time,  about  1530.  A  solitary  huntsman,  who  had  outstripped  his  com- 
rades, and  missed  the  stag  he  was  pursuing,  was  brought  to  a  sudden  halt  by  the  death 
of  his  horse,  from  exhaustion,  in  the  heart  of  the  Trosachs.  He  blew  a  loud  blast  of 
his  horn  to  recall  the  hounds,  now  crippled  and  sulky,  from  their  vain  pursuit.  The 
extract  represents  him  as  pausing  for  a  time  to  take  in  the  beauty  of  the  scene,  when 
he  again  winds  his  horn,  and  the  story  proceeds.] 

The  western  waves  of  ebbing  day 

Rolled  o'er  the  glen  their  level  wayj 

Each  purple  peak^  each  flinty  spire, 

Was  bathed  in  floods  of  living  fire. 

But  not  a  setting  beam  could  glow 

Within  the  dark  ravine  below, 

Where  twined  the  path,  in  shadow  hid, 

Round  many  a  rocky  pjrpamid. 

Shooting  abruptly  from  the  dell 

Its  thunder-splintered  pinnacle. 

The  rocky  summits,  split  and  rent. 

Formed  turret,  dome,  or  battlement, 

Or  seemed  fantastically  set 

With  cupola  or  minaret, 

Wild  crests  as  pagod  ever  decked, 

Or  mosque  of  Eastern  architect. 

Nor  were  these  earth-born  castles  bare. 

Nor  lacked  they  many  a  banner  fair; 

For,  from  their  shivered  brows  displayed. 

Far  o'er  the  unfathomable  glade. 

All  twinkling  with  the  dew-drops'  sheen. 

The  brier-rose  fell  in  streamers  green. 

And  creeping  shrubs,  of  thousand  dyes, 

Waved  in  the  west-wind's  summer  sighs. 

Boon  nature  scattered,  free  and  wild. 

Each  plant  or  flower,  the  mountain's  child. 

Here  eglantine  embalmed  the  air, 

Hawthorn  and  hazel  mingled  there; 


FIFTH  READER.  77 

The  primrose  pale  and  violet  flower 

Found  in  each  cliff  a  naiTOw  bower  j 

Fox-glove  and  nightshade,  side  by  side, 

Emblems  of  punishment  and  pride. 

Grouped  their  dark  hues  with  every  stain 

The  weather-beaten  crags  retain. 

With  boughs  that  quaked  at  every  breath, 

Gray  birch  and  aspen  wept  beneath  j 

Aloft,  the  ash  and  warrior  oak 

Cast  anchor  in  the  rifted  rockj 

And,  higher  yet,  the  pine-tree  hung 

His  shattered  trunk,  and  frequent  flung. 

Where  seemed  the  cliffs  to  meet  on  high. 

His  boughs  athwart  the  narrowed  sky. 

Highest  of  all,  where  white  peaks  glanced, 

Where  glistening  streamers  waved  and  danced, 

The  wanderer's  eye  could  barely  view 

The  simimer  heaven^s  delicious  blue; 

So  wondrous  wild,  the  whole  might  seem 

The  scenery  of  a  fairy  dream. 

***** 
And  now,  to  issue  from  the  glen. 
No  pathway  meets  the  wanderer's  ken, 
Unless  he  climb,  with  footing  nice, 
A  far  projecting  precipice. 
The  broom's  tough  roots  his  ladder  made, 
The  hazel  saplings  lent  their  aid; 
And  thus  an  airy  point  he  won. 
Where  gleaming  with  the  setting  sun. 
One  bui'uished  sheet  of  living  gold, 
Loch  Katrine  lay  beneath  him  rolled, , 
In  all  her  length  far  winding  lay, 
With  promontory,  creek,  and  bay, 
And  islands  that,  empurpled  bright, 
Floated  amid  the  livelier  light. 
And  mountains,  that  like  giants  stand. 


78  FIFTH    READER. 

To  sentinel  enchanted  land. — 

"Blithe  were  it  then  to  wander  here! 

But  now, — ^beshrew  yon  nimble  deer, — 

Like  that  same  hermit's,  thin  and  spare, 

The  copse  must  give  my  evening  farej 

Some  mossy  bank  my  couch  must  be, 

Some  rustling  oak  my  canopy. 

But  hosts  may  in  these  wilds  abound. 

Such  as  are  better  missed  than  found; 

To  meet  with  Highland  plunderers  here. 

Were  worse  than  loss  of  steed  or  deer.- 

I  am  alone; — my  bugle-strain 

May  call  some  straggler  of  the  train; 

Or,  fall  the  worst  that  may  betide. 

Ere  now  this  falchion  has  been  tried.'' 

But  scarce  again  his  horn  he  wound. 

When,  lo !  forth  starting  at  the  sound, 

From  underneath  an  aged  oak. 

That  slanted  from  an  islet  rock 

A  damsel  guider  of  its  way, 

A  little  skiff  shot  to  the  bay. 

That  round  the  promontory  steep 

Led  its  deep  line  in  graceful  sweep, 

Eddying,  in  almost  viewless  wave. 

The  weeping-willow  twig  to  lave. 

And  kiss,  with  whispering  sound  and  slow. 

The  beach  of  pebbles  bright  as  snow. 

The  boat  had  touched  this  silver  strand 

Just  as  the  hunter  left  his  stand, 

And  stood  concealed  amid  the  brake, 

To  view  this  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

The  maiden  paused,  as  if  again 

She  thought  to  catch  the  distant  strain. 

With  head  up-raised,  and  look  intent. 

And  eye  and  ear  attentive  bent, 

And  locks  flung  back,  and  lips  apart, 


FIFTH    READER.  79 

Like  monument  of  Grecian  art, 

In  listening  mood  she  seemed  to  stand, 

The  guardian  Naiad  of  the  strand. 

And  ne'er  did  Grecian  chisel  trace 

A  Nymph,  a  Naiad,  or  a  Grace, 

Of  finer  form  or  lovelier  face! 

A  foot  more  light,  a  step  more  true. 

Ne'er  from  the  heath -flower  dashed  the  dew  5 

E'en  the  shght  hare-beR  raised  its  head, 

Elastic,  from  her  airy  tread! 

What  though  upon  her  speech  there  hung 

The  accents  of  the  mountain  tongue  1^ 

Those  silver  sounds,  so  soft,  so  dear, 

The  Hstener  held  liis  breath  to  hear! 

A  chieftain's  daughter  seemed  the  maid; 

Her  satin  snood,  her  silken  plaid, 

Her  golden  brooch,  such  birth  betrayed. 

Impatient  of  the  silent  horn, 

Now  on  the  gale  her  voice  was  borne: — 

"Father!"  she  cried; — the  rocks  around 

Loved  to  prolong  the  gentle  sound. 

A  while  she  paused,  no  answer  came;— 

"Malcolm,  was  thine  the  blast?" — the  name 

Less  resolutely  uttered  fell, 

The  echoes  could  not  catch  the  swell. 

"A  stranger  I,"  the  Huntsman  said, 

Advancing  from  a  hazel  shade. 

The  maid,  alarmed,  with  hasty  oar 

Pushed  her  light  shallop  from  the  shore, 

And  when  a  space  was  gained  between, 

Closer  she  drew  her  bosom's  screen; 

(So  forth  the  startled  swan  would  swing, 

So  turn  to  prune  his  ruffled  wing.) 

Then  safe,  though  fluttered  and  amazed, 

She  paused,  and  on  the  stranger  gazed. 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 


80  FIFTH    READER 


26.     THE   FARMER   AND   THE   FOX. 

1.  A  farmer,  whose  ponltry-yard  had  suffered  severely 
from  the  foxes,  succeeded  at  last  in  catching  one  in  a 
trap. 

^^Ah,  you  rascal!"  said  he,  as  he  saw  him  struggUng, 
"I'll  teach  you  to  steal  my  fat  geese! — you  shall  hang 
on  the  tree  yonder,  and  your  brothers  shall  see  what 
comes  of  thieving!" 

2.  The  farmer  was  twisting  a  halter  to  do  what  he 
threatened,  when  the  fox,  whose  tongue  had  helped  him 
in  hard  pinches  before,  thought  there  could  bo  no  harm 
in  trying  whether  it  might  not  do  him  one  more  good 
turn. 

3.  "You  will  hang  me,"  he  said,  "to  frighten  my 
brother  foxes.  On  the  word  of  a  fox,  they  won't  care 
a  rabbit-skin  for  it;  they'll  come  and  look  at  me,  but 
you  may  depend  upon  it,  they  will  dine  at  your  expense 
before  they  go  home  again!" 

4.  "Then  I  shall  hang  you  for  yourself,  as  a  rogue 
and  a  rascal,"  said  the  farmer. 

"I  am  only  what  nature,  or  whatever  you  call  the 
thing,  chose  to  make  me,"  the  fox  answered.  "I  didn't 
make  myself." 

"You  stole  my  geese,"  said  the  man. 

5.  "  Why  did  nature  make  me  like  geese,  then  ? " 
said  the  fox.  "Live  and  let  live;  give  me  my  share, 
and  I  won't  touch  yours;  but  you  keep  them  aU  to 
yourself." 

"I  don't  understand  your  fine  talk,"  answered  the 
farmer;  "but  I  know  that  you  are  a  thief,  and  that 
you  deserve  to  be  hanged." 

6.  "His  head  is  too  thick  to  let  me  catch  him  so; 
I  wonder  if  his  heart  is  any  softer,"  thought  the  fox. 
"You  are  taking  away  the  life  of  a  fellow -creature," 


FIFTH    READER.  81 

he  said 5  "that's  a  responsibility, — it  is  a  curious  thing, 
that  hfe,  and  who  knows  what  comes  after  it?  You 
say  I  am  a  rogue.  I  say  I  am  not;  but  at  any  rate 
I  ought  not  to  be  hanged, — for  if  I  am  not,  I  don't 
deserve  it;  and  if  I  am,  you  should  give  me  time  to 
repent!"  "I  have  him  now,"  thought  the  fox;  "let  him 
get  out  if  he  can." 

7.  "Why,  what  woidd  you  have  me  do  with  you!" 
said  the  man. 

"My  notion  is  that  you  should  let  me  go,  and 
give  me  a  lamb,  or  goose  or  two,  every  month,  and 
then  I  could  live  without  stealing;  but  perhaps  you 
know  better  than  I,  and  I  am  a  rogue;  my  education 
may  have  been  neglected;  you  shoidd  shut  me  up,  and 
take  care  of  me,  and  teach  me.  Who  knows  but  in 
the  end  I  may  turn  into  a  dog?" 

8.  "Very  pretty,"  said  the  farmer;  "we  have  dogs 
enough,  and  more,  too,  than  we  can  take  care  of,  without 
you.  No,  no.  Master  Fox;  I  have  caught  you,  and  you 
shall  swing,  whatever  is  the  logic  of  it.  There  will  be 
one  rogue  less  in  the  world,  anyhow." 

"It  is  mere  hate  and  unchristian  vengeance,"  said 
the  fox. 

9.  "No,  friend,"  the  farmer  answered;  "I  do  n't  hate 
you,  and  I  don't  want  to  revenge  myself  on  you;  but 
you  and  I  can't  get  on  together,  and  I  think  I  am  of 
more  importance  than  you.  If  nettles  and  thistles  gi'ow 
in  my  cabbage  garden,  I  do  n't  try  to  persuade  them  to 
grow  into  cabbages.  I  just  dig  them  up.  I  do  n't  hate 
them;  but  I  feel  somehow  that  they  must  n't  hinder 
me  with  my  cabbages,  and  that  I  must  put  them  away; 
and  so,  my  poor  friend,  I  am  sorry  for  you,  but  I  am 
afraid  you  must  swing." 

From  FRounE's  Essays. 

CoMPOSiTiox.     Read  this  piece  carefully  three  times;    then  close  the 

book  and  write  the  fable  in  your  own  words. 

5-6 


82  FIFTH    EEADER. 


27.  DISCOVERERS  AND  EXPLORERS. 

1.  Columbus,  a  G-enoese,  discovered  America  in  1492. 
After  him,  Americus  Vespucius  sailed  along  the  coast  of 
North  America,  and  gave  his  name  to  the  New  World. 

2.  Magellan,  a  Portuguese  navigator,  in  1520,  dis- 
covered the  Pacific  Ocean  by  sailing  into  it  through 
the  strait  that  bears  his  name. 

3.  Cook,  an  English  navigator,  circumnavigated  the 
globe,  1772-1775.  Drake,  a  famous  English  sea-captain, 
also  sailed  around  the  world.  He  was  noted  for  his 
success  in  capturing  Spanish  ships  freighted  with  silver 
from  the  mines  of  Mexico  and  Peru. 

4.  De  Soto,  a  Spaniard,  in  1539,  discovered  the  Mis- 
sissippi, and  La  Salle,  a  Frenchman,  explored  the  river 
in  1682.  Cortez,  a  Spaniard,  conquered  Mexico  in  1519; 
Pizarro,  another  Spaniard,  subdued  Peru  in  1533. 

5.  Dr.  Kane,  an  American,  made  an  exploring  expedi- 
tion into  the  Arctic  regions  in  1852-5.  His  ship  was 
frozen  in  by  the  ice,  and  after  passing  two  winters  in  the 
Arctic  regions,  he  and  his  crew  returned  by  means  of 
sledges  and  boats.  His  account  of  the  voyage,  entitled 
"Kane's  Arctic  Explorations,''  is  a  most  interesting  vol- 
ume. Since  that  time,  various  Arctic  expeditions  have 
been  fitted  out  by  Americans,  among  which  was  that  of 
the  ill-fated  Jeannette,  lost  in  the  ice,  westward  from 
Wrangel  Island,  1881-82.  The  crew  escaped  from  the 
ship  in  three  boats,  of  which  one  was  lost  —  two  only 
reaching  Siberia:  the  crew  of  one  of  which,  with  Com- 
mander DeLong,  perished  from  cold  and  starvation. 

6.  Dr.  Livingstone,  a   Scotchman,  spent    many    years 
in   exploring  Central  Africa,  where  he  finally  perished. 
Stanley,  an  American,  crossed  the  central  part  of  Africa 
in  1874.     He  traced  the  great  river  Congo,  the  Amazon' 
of  Africa,,  from  its  source  to  the  Atlantic. 


FIFTH    READER.  83 


28.     NOT   ONE   TO   SPARE. 

"Which  shaU  it  be?    Which  shaU  it  heV 
I  looked  at  John,  John  looked  at  me 
(Dear,  patient  John,  who  loves  me  yet 
As  well  as  when  my  locks  were  jet). 
And  when  I  found  that  I  must  speak, 
My  voice  seemed  strangely  low  and  weak: 
"Tell  me  again  what  Robert  said!" 
And  then  I,  Hstening,  bent  my  head. 
"This  is  his  letter: — 'I  will  give 
A  house  and  land  while  you  shall  live, 
If,  in  return,  from  out  your  seven, 
One  child  to  me  for  aye  be  given.'" 
I  looked  at  John's  old  garments  wornj 
I  thought  of  all  that  John  had  borne 
Of  poverty,  and  work,  and  care. 
Which  I,  though  willing,  could  not  share  j 
I  thought  of  seven  mouths  to  feed. 
Of  seven  httle  children's  need. 
And  then  of  this.     "Come,  John,"  said  I, 
"  We  '11  choose  among  them  as  they  lie 
Asleep."     So,  walking  hand  in  hand, 
Dear  John  and  I  surveyed  our  band. 
First  to  the  cradle  light  we  stepped. 
Where  LiHan,  the  baby,  slept, 
A  glory  'gainst  the  pillow  white. 
Softly  the  father  stooped  to  lay 
His  rough  hand  down  in  loving  way. 
When  dream  or  whisper  made  her  stir; 
Then  huskily  he  said,  "  Not  her." 
We  stooped  beside  the  trundle-bed. 
And  one  long  ray  of  lamp-light  shed 
Athwart  the  boyish  faces  there. 
In  sleep  so  pitiful  and  fair. 


84  FIFTH    READER. 

I  saw  on  Jamie's  rough,  red  cheek 

A  tear  undried.     Ere  John  could  speak, 

"He's  but  a  baby,  too,"  said  I, 

And  kissed  him  as  we  hurried  by. 

Pale,  patient  Robbie's  angel  face 

Still  in  his  sleep  bore  suffering's  trace : 

"No,  for  a  thousand  crowns,  not  him," 

We  whispered,  while  our  eyes  were  dim. 

Poor  Dick !  bad  Dick !  our  wayward  son. 

Turbulent,  reckless,  idle  one — 

Could  he  be  spared!     "Nay,  He  who  gave 

Bids  us  befriend  him  to  his  grave  j 

Only  a  mother's  heart  can  be 

Patient  enough  for  such  as  he. 

And  so,"  said  John,  "I  would  not  dare 

To  send  him  from  her  bedside  prayer." 

Then  stole  we  softly  up  above. 

And  knelt  by  Mary,  child  of  love: 

"Perhaps  for  her  'twould  better  be," 

I  said  to  John.     Quite  silently 

He  lifted  up  a  curl  that  lay 

Across  her  cheek  in  willful  way, 

And  shook  his  head,  "Nay,  love,  not  thee," 

The  while  my  heart  beat  audibly. 

Only  one  more,  our  eldest  lad. 

Trusty  and  truthful,  good  and  glad — 

So  like  his  father.     "No,  John,  no — 

I  cannot,  will  not  let  him  go." — 

And  so  we  wrote  in  courteous  way, 

We  could  not  drive  one  child  ^way. 

And  afterwards  toil  lighter  seemed, 

Thinking  of  that  of  which  we  dreamed  j 

Happy,  in  truth,  that  not  one  face 

Was  missed  from  its  accustomed  place; 

Thankfid.  to  work  for  all  the  seven, 

Trusting  the  rest  to  One  in  heaven! 


FIFTH    READER.  85 


29.     LEARNINO-   TO   WRITE. 

1.  Ill  learning  to  write,  our  first  rule  is:  Know  what 
you  want  to  say.  The  second  rule  is:  Say  it  That  is, 
do  not  begin  by  saying  something  else  which  you  think 
will  lead  up  to  what  you  want  to  say.  I  remember, 
when  they  tried  to  teach  me  to  sing,  they  told  me  to 
^Hhink  of  eight  and  sing  seven."  That  may  be  a  very 
good  rule  for  singing,  but  it  is  not  a  good  rule  for 
talking  or  writing. 

2.  Thirdly,  and  always:  Use  your  own  language.  I 
mean  the  language. you  are  accustomed  to  use  in  daily 
life.  If  your  every-day  language  is  not  fit  for  a  letter 
or  for  print,  it  is  not  fit  for  talk.  And  if,  by  any  series 
of  joking  or  fun,  at  school  or  at  home,  you  have  got 
into  the  habit  of  using  slang  in  talk,  which  is  not  fit 
for  print,  why,  the  sooner  you  get  out  of  it  the  better. 

3.  Remember  that  the  very  highest  compliment  paid 
to  any  thing  printed,  is  paid  when  a  person  hearing  it 
read  aloud,  thinks  it  is  the  remark  of"  the  reader  made 
in  conversation.  Both  writer  and  reader  then  receive 
the  highest  possible  praise. 

4.  A  short  word  is  letter  than  a  long  one.  Here  is 
a  piece  of  weak  English.  It  is  not  bad  in  other  regards, 
but  simply  weak. 

"  Entertaining  unlimited  confidence  in  your  intelligent 
and  patriotic  devotion  to  the  public  interest,  and  being 
conscious  of  no  motives  on  my  part  which  are  separable 
from  the  honor  and  advancement  of  my  country,  I  hope 
it  may  be  my  privilege  to  deserve  and  secure,  not  only 
your  cordial  co-operation  in  great  public  measures,  but 
also  those  relations  of  mutual  confidence  and  regard, 
which  it  is  always  so  desirable  to  cultivate  between 
members  of  co-ordinate  branches  of  the  government." 

5.  Take    that    for    an    exercise    in    translating    into 


86  FIFTH    READER. 

shorter  words.  Strike  out  the  unnecessary  words,  and 
see  if  it  does  not  come  oijt  stronger.  I  think  this  sen- 
tence would  have  been  better  if  it  had  been  couched  in 
thirty -five  words  instead  of  eighty -one.  I  think  we 
should  have  lost  nothing  of  the  author's  meaning  if  he 
had  said, — 

^^I  have  full  trust  in  you.  I  am  sure  that  I  seek 
only  the  honor  and  advance  of  the  country.  I  hope, 
therefore,  I  may  earn  your  respect  and  regard,  while 
we  heartily  work  together." 

6.  I  am  fond  of  telling  the  story  of  the  words  which 
a  distinguiK^hed  friend  of  mine  used  in  accepting  a  hard 
post  of  duty.     He  said, — 

"  I  do  not  think  I  am  fit  for  this  post.  But  my  friends 
say  I  am,  and  I  trust  them.  I  shall  take  it,  and  when 
I  am  in  it,  I  shall  do  as  well  as  I  can." 

7.  It  is  a  very  grand  speech.  Observe  that  it  has 
not  one  word  which  is  more  than  one  syllable.  As  it 
happens,  also,  every  word  is  Saxon, — there  is  not  one 
spurt  of  Latin  in  it. 

Edward  Eveeett  Hale. 


30.    ANIMAL   LIFE   IN  THE   OCEAN. 

1.  The  sea,  like  the  land,  abounds  in  animal  life.  The 
popular  idea  of  an  "  ocean- waste "  is  not  a  correct  one. 
There  is  no  part  of  the  ocean,  except  the  lowest  depths, 
that  does  not  teem  with  life.  Even  the  bleak  and  icy 
Arctic  Seas  are  tenanted,  not  only  by  whales,  seals, 
walrus,  sharks,  and  fish,  but  also  by  shoals  of  almost 
microscopic  animals.  The  northern  seas  include  all 
the  hunting  grounds  of  the  world. 

2.  Every  spring,  when  the  returning  sun  has  softened 
the  rigors  of  a  long,  dark,  polar  winter,  fleets  of  whaling 
ships  push  their  way  north  into  the  floating  ice,  after 


FIFTH    READER. 


87 


cargoes  of  whale-oil.  Seals  are  hunted  for  their  furs, 
and  the  walrus  for  its  ivory  tusks.  The  native  in- 
habitants along  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Ocean  depend 
for  their  food  chiefly  on  the  flesh  of  whales,  seals,  and 
sea-fowl.  The  seal  furnishes  the  bread  of  the  Esquimaux; 
its  skin  supplies  clothing;  its  tendons,  thread;  and  its 
oil,  fuel 


k% 


I.        THE    WHALE. 

3.  The  whale  is  not  a  fish,  though  we  speak  of  the 
"  whale  fishery.''  It  is  a  mammal,  that  is,  a  warm-blooded, 
air-breathing  animal  that  suckles  its  young.  The  "right 
whale"  is  found  in  both  Polar  Seas,  but  never  within 
the  limits  of  the  tropics.  It  sometimes  attains  the  length 
of  eighty  feet,  and  weighs  many  tons.  It  is  without 
teeth,  but  is  pro\'ided  with  a  fringe  of  whalebone  in  its 
upper  jaw,  whose  ends  or  filaments  act  as  a  net  for 
catching  the  pol}^s  on  which  it  feeds. 

4.  The  sperm-whale  is  found  principally  in  the  tropical 
seas.     It  has  teeth,  and  feeds  on  fish.    It  is  distinguished 


88 


FIFTH    READER, 


by  its  enormous  head,  which  contains  a  reservoir  of  pure 
spermaceti. 


II. 


FISHES    OF    THE    SEA. 


5.  The  shark  is  the  tiger  of  the  seas.     It  is  found  in 

all  parts  of  the  ocean 
except  the  Polar  Seas. 
The  dreaded  white  shark 
often  attains  the  length 

i  of  thirty  feet,  and  with 
its  enormous  jaws, 
armed  with  triple  rows 
of  terrible  teeth,  is 
even  capable  of  snap- 
.4^  ping  the  body  of  a 
man  in  two. 

6.  The  flying-fish,  by  means  of  its  large  pectoral ,  fins, 
is  enabled  to  spring  out  of  the  water,  and  skim  along  close 
to  the  surface  of  the  sea  for  a  distance  of  a  few  rods. 
The  sword-fish, 
armed  with  a  pro- 
jecting  snout  of 
solid  bone,  is  the 
deadly  enemy  of 
the  whale,  which  it 
often  worries  to 
death  by  repeated 
thrusts  of  its  long, 
pointed  "sword." 

7.  Fish  forms 
the  chief  animal  food  of  millions  of  human  beings,  as 
well  as  of  seal  and  sea-fowl.  One  fiftieth  of  the  people  on 
the  globe  subsist  chiefly  on  the  products  of  the  sea.  Cod, 
herring,  mackerel,  salmon,  and  other  kinds  of  edible 
fish  are  found  chiefly  in  the  cool  waters  of  the  temperate 
zones,  or  in  the  colder  Polar  Seas. 


FIFTH    READER. 


89 


8.  The  excellence  of  the  fish  on  the  banks  of  New- 
foundland, along  the  coast  of  New  England,  around  the 
Japan   Islands   and  the   Aleutian   Islands,  is   owing  to 

the  cold  Arctic  currents.  The 
mackerel,  in  its  spring  migra- 
tions northward,  appears  in 
dense  schools  along  the  coast 
of  New  England,  in  the  GuK 
of  St.  Lawrence,  and  off  the 
British  Isles. 

9.  The  cod,  migrating  north- 
ward in  spring,  gathers  in 
countless  millions  around  the 
Newfoundland  banks,  about 
300  miles  from  the  mainland, 
attracted  thither  by  the  warm 
waters  of  the  gulf-stream,  and 
by  the  good  feeding  grounds  on  the  sandy  bed  of  the 
shoal  water, 

10.  England,  France,  and  -^ 
America,  together,  send  out  an- 
nually to  "the  banks"  region 
6,000  sloops,  manned  by  80,000 
fishermen.  The  fishing  grounds 
around  the  Japan  and  Aleutian 
Isles  abound  in  fish. 

11.  The  salmon  winters  in  the 
ocean,  but  in  spring  ascends 
fresh-water  rivers  to  spawn^  or 
lay  its  eggs.  The  Columbia,  the 
Yukon,  and  the  Amoor  rivers 
are  annually  crowded  with  myr- 
iads of  salmon  ascending  to  the 
head  streams.  The  rivers  of 
Canada,  Maine,  Northern  Europe,  and  Northern  Asia, 
also  abound  with  this  valuable  food  fish. 


90 


FIFTH    READER. 


12.  Herring  appear  in  immense  schools  off  the  coast 
of  Norway  and  the  northern  shores  of  the  British  Isles. 
During  the  season,  50,000  men  are  engaged  in  catching 
them.  The  herring-fishery,  during  the  first  half  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  was  one  great  source  of  the  wealth 
of  the  Dutch.  The  hardy  fishermen  manned  the  Dutch 
navy  and'  laid  the  foundation  of  the  naval  and  com- 
mercial greatness  of  the  Netherlands. 


III. 


BIRDS    OF    THE    SEA. 


13.  There  are  many  kinds  of  sea-fowl   that  feed  on 
fish,  and  build  their  nests  on  the  sea-coast.     The  alba- 
tross,  the   king  of 

^.  sea-birds,  is  found 

in  great  numbers 
off  Cape  Horn,  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
and  in  all  parts  of 
( lie  Pacific.  Pen- 
uuins  live  in  count- 
.  less  millions  along 
=  the  rocky  shores  of 
the  Auckland  Isles, 
and  other  islands  in  the  South  Polar  regions.  They  swim 
and  dive  almost  as  readily  as  the  seal,  and  feed  exclu- 
sively upon  fish.  Myriads  of  smaller  kinds  of  penguins 
make  their  home  on  the  islands  along  the  western  coast 
of  South  America.  The  Chincha  Islands,  off  Peru,  are 
covered  hundreds  of  feet  in  depth  with  guano,  which 
is  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  revenue  for  the  Peruvian 
government. 

14.  Auks  and  gulls  swarm  in  summer  time  along  the 
shores  of  the  Arctic  lands,  feeding  on  the  shoals  of  fish 
that  migrate  into  the  Arctic  Seas.  To  the  Esquimaux, 
the  auk,  as  an  article  of  food,  is  second  in  importance 


FIFTH    READER.  91 

only  to  the  seal.     Ducks  and  geese  migrate  in  flocks  from 
one  shore  to  another,  following  the  course  of  the  fish. 

15.  In  South  America,  flamingoes,  cormorants,  herons, 
ducks,  and  geese  migrate  in  immense  numbers  between 
the  mouths  of  the  Amazon  and  the  Orinoco,  following 
the  course  of  the  fish  up  these  great  rivers. 

rV.   THE  CORAL  POLYP  AND  THE  SPONGE. 

16.  Corals  and  sponges  are  found  in  aU  shallow  trop- 
ical seas.  As  coral  is  made  up  of  the  limestone  skeletons, 
or  dwelUng-places  of  polyps,  so  the  sponge  is  the  frame- 
work of  a  gelatinous  animal  substance  of  the  lowest 
type  or  organization.  Corals  of  the  most  brilliant  hues 
and  most  beautiful  forms  are  found  among  the  groups 
of  Coralline  Islands,  in  the  Pacific. 

17.  Coral  reefs  are  built  up  in  the  Pacific  on  an  im- 
mense scale,  often  extending  hundreds  of  miles.  The 
little  coral  polyp,  so  insignificant  in  size,  and  so  low 
in  the  scale  of  organization,  is  an  architect  that  builds 
islands,  and  constructs  sea-walls  which  obstruct  naviga- 
tion and  wreck  ships. 

Questions.     Question  the  class  on  the  leading  facts  of  the  lesson. 

Oral  Spelling.    Dictate  all  the  names  of  animals  in  the  lesson. 

Composition.  Write  from  memory  a  short  account  of  the  fishes  of 
the  sea, 

10 


WRITTEN    SPELLING.— WORDS    OFTEN    MISSPELLED. 

If  there  are  any  words  in  this  lesson,  or  in  the  following  lessons 
of  this  series,  with  ivhich  you  are  not  familiar,  refer  to  the  dictionary 
and  learn  their  meaning. 

apparition  convention  aversion  physician 

ascension  extension  politician  profession 

attention  nutrition  volition  contrition 

pretension  optician  concession  dissension 


92  FIFTH    READER. 

V.     VOCAL   TBAININ-a, 

I.    Rhetorical  Parses. 

1.  Rhetorical  pauses  are  pauses  not  indicated  by 
punctuation,  yet  required  by  emphasis  or  by  the  sense. 
A  pause  before  or  after  an  important  word  is  one  way 
of  making  the  word  emphatic,  that  is,  of  calling  special 
attention  to  it. 

2.  The  general  tendency  of  young  and  untrained 
pupils  to  rapid  and  unexpressive  reading,  is  owing 
largely  to  their  failure  to  make  rhetorical  pauses. 

3.  In  good  reading  and  speaking,  the  words  are  run 
together  in  groups,  with  pauses  between  the  groups. 
In  the  following  sentence,  in  which  there  are  no  pauses 
indicated  by  punctuation,  the  grouping  or  running 
together  of  words  is  indicated  by  hyphens,  while  the 
pauses  are  shown  by  vertical  lines  or  bars: 

Wlio- would -have -thought  |  that  -  the  -  black  -  clouds  | 
could-hide-the-little-fairies  |  that-made-the-earth-so-beauti- 
ful. 

4.  By  carefully  noticing  the  pauses  that  you  naturally 
make  in  good  reading,  you  will  observe  that  words  are 
generally  grouped  by  phrases  or  clauses^  with  a  rhetori- 
cal pause  before  and  after  these  groups.  When  the 
subject  of  a  verb  is  emphatic,  there  is  a  pause  between 
the  subject  and  the  predicate.  The  principles  that 
govern  the  making  of  rhetorical  pauses  are  more  fully 
brought  out  by  the  examples  given  to  illustrate  the 
following  rules. 

II.    Grammatical  Pauses. 

5.  Grammatical  pauses  are  those  indicated  by  punctua- 
tion. These  pauses  are  to  a  certain  extent  rhetorical, 
since  they  have  no  fixed  length,  but  depend,  in  some 
measure,    on    the    character   of    the   piece    to    be   read. 


FIFTH    READER.  93 

When  the  general  movement  or  rate  is  slow,  the  pauses 
are  relatively  long;  when  it  is  fast,  the  pauses  are  short. 
6.    The   general   principles  that   govern    grammatical 
pauses  may  be  summed  up  as  follows: 

In  general,  a  sligJit  pause  at  a  comma;  a  longer  pause 
at  a  semicolon;  and  a  still  longer  pause  at  a  period. 

A  full  pause,  longer  than  at  a  period,  is  required  at 
the  end  of  a  paragraph  of  prose,  or  a  stanza  of  poetry. 

GENERAL    DIRECTION. 

Form  the  habit  of  renewing  the  breath  at  every  lyause, 
so  that  the  lungs  may  be  kept  well  filled  with  air. 


Rules  and  Examples  of  Rhetorical  Pauses. 

Rule  I.  When  the  subject  of  a  verb  is  emphatic,  or 
when  it  consists  of  a  phrase  or  a  clause,  make  a  rhetorical 
pause  between  the  subject  and  the  verb. 

1.  Scrooge  |  never  painted  out  |  old  Marley's  name. 

2.  The  history  of  England  |  is  emphatically  the  his- 
tory of  progress. 

3.  The  eyes  of  men  |  converse  as  much  as  their 
tongues. 

4.  Who  steals  my  purse  |  steals  ti*ash. 

5.  Some  |  place  the  bliss  in  action,  some,  |  in  ease. 
Those  I  call  it  pleasure,  and  contentment  |  these. 

6.  The  midnight  |  brought  the  signal  sound  of  strife. 

Bule  II.  Make  a  pause  after  introductory  adverbial 
words,  phrases,  or  clauses,  and  before  and  after  adverbs 
transposed  out  of  their  regular  grammatical  order. 

1.    Perhaps  |  in  this  neglected  spot  |  is  laid  | 

Some  heart  |  once  pregnant  |  with  celestial  fire. 


94  FIFTH    READER. 

2.  In  all  its  history  |  the  Constitution  has  been  benefi- 
cent. 

3.  If  we  fail  |  it  can  be  no  worse  for  us. 

4.  If  you  have  tears  |  prepare  to  shed  them  now. 

Rule  III.  Mahe  a  pause  before  adjective  or  adverbial 
phrases  or  clauses,  unless  thexj  are  very  shorty  or  the 
connection  is  very  close. 

1.  I  believe  there  is  no  permanent  greatness  |  to  a 
nation  |  except  it  be  based  upon  morality. 

2.  To  him  |  who  |  in  the  love  of  nature  |  holds  com- 
munion I  with  her  visible  forms,  she  speaks  a  various 
language. 

3.  Homer  claims  |  on  every  account  |  our  first  atten- 
tion, as  the  father,  |  not  only  of  epic  poetry,  but  also  | 
in  some  measure  |  of  poetry  itself. 

Rule  IV.  Make  a  pause  before  and  after  words  or 
phrases  transposed  out  of  their  regular  grammatical  order. 

1.  Silence  |  how  deep,  and  darkness  |  how  profound! 

2.  How  sweet  and  solemn  |  is  this  midnight  scene. 

3.  The  plowman  |  homeward  |  plods  his  weary  way. 

4.  Their  furrow  |  oft  the  stubborn  glebe  |  has  broke. 

Rule  V.  Pause  before  and  after  parenthetical  or  ex- 
planatory p)hrases  or  clauses. 

1.  That  course  |  if  persevered  in  |  will  lead  to  success. 

2.  After  dinner  |  he  retired  |  as  was  his  custom  |  to 
his  bed-chamber,  where  |  it  is  recorded  |  he  slept  quietly  | 
for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 

Rule  YI.  Pause  when  an  ellipsis  or  omission  of  words 
occurs. 

1.    To  your  elders  |  manifest  becoming  deference;   to 


FIFTH    READER.  95 

your  companions  |  [manifest]  frankness;  to  your  juniors  | 
condescension. 

2.  Homer  \  was  the  greater  genius;  Virgil  \  [was]  the 
better  artist 

3.  Milton  I  he  quotes  often;  SpSnser  \  [he  quotes] 
never. 

4.  Reading  maketh  a  full  man;  conference  |  [maketh] 
a  ready  man;   and  writing  |  [maketh]  an  exact  man. 

5.  All  nature  \  is  but  art  unknown  to  thee, 

All  chance  |  direction,  which  thou  canst  not  see, 

All  discord  \  harmony  \  not  understood, 

All  partial  evil  \  universal  good. 

And  spite  of  pride,  in  errhig  reason^ s  spite, 

One  truth  is  clear,  whatever  is  \  is  right. 

Rule  YII.  Ztnless  the  grammatical  connection  is  very 
close,  make  a  short  rhetorical  pause  at  the  end  of  every 
line  of  poetry,  to  marJc  the  poetic  rhythm. 

EXAMPI.ES   FOR    CONCERT   DRUX. 

1.       THE   SHIPWRECK. 

And  first  |  one  universal  shrink  |  there  rushed, 

Louder  than  the  loud  ocean, — like  a  crash  | 
Of  echoing  thiinder;   and  then  |  all  was  hushed, 

Save  the  wild  wind  |  and  the  remorseless  dash  | 
Of  billows;   but  at  intervals  |  there  gushed, 

Accompanied  by  a  convulsive  splash, 
A  solitary  shrink,  the  bubbUng  ciy  | 

Of  some  strong  swimmer  |  in  his  agony. 

2.       THANATOPSIS. 

All  that  tread 
The  globe  |  are  but  a  hdndful  \  to  the  tribes  | 
That  slumber  in  its  bosom.     Take  the  wings 
Of  morning,  and  the  Barcan  desert  pierce. 
Or  lose  thyself  |  in  the  continuous  woods  | 


96  FIFTH    READER. 

Where  rolls  the  Oregon,  and  hears  no  sound  | 
Save  his  own  ddshings, — ^yet  the  dead  |  are  there; 
And  millions,  in  those  solitudes^  since  first  | 
The  flight  of  years  began,  have  laid  them  down  | 
In  their  last  sleep: — the  dead  |  reign  there  |  alone. 

Rule  VIII.  Mahe  a  pause  before  or  after  any  par- 
ticularly emphatic  word  or  group  of  ivords. 

1.  The  penalty  for  his  awful  crime  was  |  death. 

2.  He  woke  |  to  die. 

3.  Rider  and  horse,  friend,  foe,  in  |  oyie  |  red  \  burial 
blent. 

4.  You  called  me  |  dog;   and  for  these  |  courtesies 
m  lend  thee  |  thus  much  |  moneys. 

5.  My  answer  would  be  (  a  blow. 

6.  And  George  the  Third  |  may  profit  \  by  their  | 
exdmple. 

7.  There  was  a  time  when  Athens  had  not  one  ship, 
I  no,  not  I  one  \  wall. 

CONCERT    PHONTC    SPEI.LING.— SILENT    I.ETTERS. 

The  teacher  should  spell  these  ivords  hy  sound,  and  the  class  repeat. 

b. — comb,  climb,  crumb,  dumb,  debt,  doubt,  lamb, 
limb,  thumb,  numb,  tomb. 

d. — ^badge,  budge,  dodge,  edge,  hedge,  grudge,  judge, 
lodge,  nudge,  pledge,  ridge. 

gh. — bought,  bright,  brought,  bhght,  caught,  fight, 
fought,  flight,  high,  height,  weight,  night,  right,  sight, 
thigh,  nigh,  thought. 

k. — ^knack,  knave,  knee,  kneel,  knead,  knell,  knife, 
knit,  know,  knew,  known,  knot,  knob,  knoll,  knock. 

1. — ^balm,  calm,  palm,  psalm,  calf,  calves,  half,  halves, 
alms,  chalk,  stalk,  talk,  walk,  could,  would,  should,  folks. 
Spelling  Match.     Spell  by  letter  all  the  words  above. 


FIFTH    READER.  97 


31.     THE    BUILDERS. 

The  teacher  will  explain  to  the  pupils  the  meaning  of  this  poem;  train 
them  to  read  it,  and  then  require  them  to  memorize  it  for  recitation. 

1.  AU  I  are  architects  of  Fate, 

Working  |  in  these  walls  of  Time; 

Some  i  with  massive  deeds  |  and  great, 

Some  I  with  ornaments  |  of  rhyme. 

2.  Nothing  |  useless  is  |  or  16 w, 

Each  thing  |  in  its  place  |  is  b^st; 
And  what  seems  |  but  idle  show  | 
Strengthens  |  and  supports  the  r^st. 

3.  For  the  structure  |  that  we  raise, 

Time  |  is  with  materials  |  filled; 
Our  to-days  |  and  yesterdays  | 
Are  the  blocks  |  with  which  we  build. 

4.  Truly  shape  |  and  fashion  these; 

Leave  no  yawning  gaps  |  between; 
TMnJc  not,  because  no  man  sees, 
Such  things  |  will  remain  unseen. 

5.  In  the  elder  days  |  of  art. 

Builders  wrought  |  with  greatest  care  | 
Each  minute  |  and  unseen  part; 
For  the  gods  |  are  every- where. 

6.  Let  us  do  our  work  |  as  well. 

Both  the  unseen  \  and  the  seen; 
Make  the  house,  where  gods  \  may  dwell. 
Beautiful,  entire,  and  clfean. 

7.  Else  our  lives  |  are  incomplete. 

Standing  |  in  these  walls  of  Timej 
Broken  stairways,  where  the  feet  | 
Stumble  |  as  they  seek  to  climb. 


98  FIFTH    READER. 

8.  Build  to-day,  then,  strong  and  sure, 

With  a  firm  |  and  ample  bdse^ 
And  I  ascending  and  secure  | 
Shall  to-morrow  \  find  its  place. 

9.  Thus  alone  |  can  we  attain  | 

To  those  turrets,  where  the  eye  | 

Sees  the  world  |  as  one  vast  plain, 

And  one  boundless  reach  |  of  sky. 


ar'chi  tects,  builders, 
strucfure,  building. 
mi  nute',  very  small. 


Longfellow. 
DEFINITIONS. 

base,  foundation, 
tur'rets,  towers. 
se  cure'',  safe. 


Questions.     Ask  pupils   to   tell   why  rhetorical   pauses  are  placed 
where  they  are,  and  why  the  inflections  are  marked  as  they  are. 


32.     CHARACTER    OF    TRUE    ELOQUENCE. 

Bead  this  extract,  sentence  hy  sentence,  and  let  the  class,  in  conceo't, 
repeat  after  you.  The  movement  is  sloio ;  the  pauses  long ;  and  the 
force,  declamatory.  Finally,  assign  it  to  the  hoys  of  the  class  to  he 
committed  to  memory  for  declamation. 

1.  When  public  'bodies  \  are  to  be  addressed  |  on  mo- 
mentous occasions^  when  great  interests  \  are  at  stake,  and 
strong  passions  \  excited,  nothing  \  is  valuable,  in  speech, 
further  than  it  is  connected  |  with  high  intellectual  and 
moral  endowments.  Clearness,  fdrce,  and  earnestness  \ 
are  the  qualities  \  which  produce  conviction. 

2.  Triie  eloquence,  indeed,  does  not  consist  in  speech. 
It  cannot  be  brought  from  far.  Labor  and  learning 
may  toil  for  it,  but  they  will  toil  in  vain.  Words  and 
phrases  |  may  be  marshaled  in  every  ivdy,  but  they  can- 
not compass  it.  It  must  exist  in  the  mcln,  in  the  subject, 
and  in  the  occasion. 

3.  Affected  passion,   intense   exp>ression,  the  pomp   of 


FIFTH    READERo  99 

declamation,  all  \  may  aspire  after  it — they  cannot  reach 
it.  It  comes,  if  it  come  at  all,  like  the  outbreaking  of 
a  foiintain  from  the  earth,  or  the  bursting  forth  of  vol- 
canic fires,  with  spontdneous,  original,  ndtive  force. 

4.  The  graces  |  taught  in  the  sch6ols,  the  costly  orna- 
ments and  studied  contrivances  of  speech,  slioch  and  disgiist 
men,  when  their  oivn  lives,  and  the  fate  of  their  wives, 
their  children,  and  their  country,  hang  on  the  decision 
of  the  hour.  Then  |  ivords  have  lost  their  power,  rhet- 
oric  is   vain,   and    all    elaborate    oratory  \  contemptible. 

5.  Even  genius  itself  \  then  feels  rebuked,  and  subdued, 
as  in  the  presence  of  higher  qualities.  Then,  j^dtriotism  \ 
is  eloquent;  then,  self-devotion  \  is  eloquent.  The  clear 
conception,  outrunning  the  deductions  of  logic,  the 
high  piirpose,  the  firm  resolve,  the  dauntless  spirit,  speak- 
ing on  the  tongue,  beaming  from  the  eye,  informing 
every  feature,  and  urging  the  whole  man  onward,  right 
onward  \  to  his  object — this,  this  \  is  eloquence;  or  rather 
it  is  something  greater  and  higher  than  dll  eloquence — 
it  is  dction — noble,  sublime,  godlike  action.  webster. 

Dictionary  Lesson.  Find  the  meaning  of  the  following  words: 
endowments,  spontaneous,  elaborate,  dauntless,  compass. 


33.    THE   CROWDED   STREET. 

Mark  this  poem  for  rhetorical  pauses  and  inflection. 

1.  Let  me  move  slowly  |  through  the  street, 

Filled  I  with  an  ever -shifting  train. 
Amid  the  sound  |  of  steps  that  beat  | 

The  murmuring  walks  |  like  autumn  rMn. 

2.  How  fast  I  the  flitting  figures  \  come  ! 

The  mild,  the  fierce,  the  stony  face; 
Some  I  bright  with  thoughtless  smiles,  and  some 
Where  secret  tears  \  have  left  their  trace. 


100  FIFTH    READER. 

3.  They  pass — to  toil,  to  strife,  to  rest; 

To  halls  in  which  the  feast  is  spread; 
To  chambers  where  the  funeral  guest 
In  silence  sits  beside  the  dead. 

4.  And  some  to  happy  homes  repair, 

Where  children,  pressing  cheek  to  cheeky 
With  mute  caresses  shall  declare 
The  tenderness  they  cannot  speak. 

5.  And  some,  who  walk  in  calmness  here, 

Shall  shudder  when  they  reach  the  door 
Where  one  who  made  their  dwelling  dear. 
Its  flower,  its  light,  is  seen  no  more. 

6.  Youth,  with  pale  cheek  and  slender  frame 

And  dreams  of  greatness  in  thine  eye ! 
Goest  thou  to  build  an  early  name. 
Or  early  in  the  task  to  ^e"? 

7.  Keen  son  of  trade,  with  eager  brow! 

Who  is  now  fluttering  in  thy  snare? 
Thy  golden  fortunes,  tower  they  now. 
Or  melt  the  ghttering  spires  in  airf 

8.  Who  of  this  crowd  to-night  shall  tread 

The  dance  till  daylight  gleam  again? 
Who  sorrow  o'er  the  untimely  dead? 
Who  writhe  in  throes  of  mortal  pain? 

9.  Some,  famine-struck,  shall  think  how  long 

The  cold,  dark  hours,  how  slow  the  light; 
And  some,  who  flaunt  amid  the  throng. 
Shall  hide  in  dens  of  shame  to-night. 

10.    Each,  where  his  tasks  or  pleasures  call, 
They  pass,  and  heed  each  other  not. 
There  is  who  heeds,  who  holds  them  aU, 
In  His  large  love  and  boundless  thought. 


FIFTH   ,R,EADER.  101 

11.    These  struggling  tides  of  life,  that  seem 
In  wayward,  aimless  course  to  tend, 
Are  eddies  of  the  mighty  stream 
That  rolls  to  its  appointed  end. 


Brtakt. 


34.     BENJ.    FRANKLIN'S    MORAL    CODE. 

The  following  list  of  moral  virtues  was  drawn  up  by 
Dr.  Franklin  for  the  regulation  of  his  life: 

Temperance.    Eat  not  to  dullness,  drink  not  to  eleva- 
tion. 

Silence.     Speak  not  but  what  may  benefit  others  or 
yourself;  avoid  trifling  conversation. 

Order.    Let  all  your  things  have  their  places;  let  each 
part  of  your  business  have  its  time. 

Resolution.      Resolve    to    perform    what    you    ought; 
perform  without  fail  what  you  resolve. 

Frugality.     Make  no  expense  but  to  do  good  to  others 
or  yourself;  that  is,  waste  nothing. 

Industry.      Lose    no    time;    be    always    employed    in 
something  useful;  cut  off  all  unnecessary  action. 

Sincerity.     Use   no   hurtful    deceit;    think  innocently 
and  justly;  and  if  you  speak,  speak  accordingly. 

Justice.    Wrong  none  by  doing  injuries,  or  omitting 
the  benefits  that  are  your  duty. 

Moderation.      Avoid   extremes;    forbear   resenting  in- 
juries so  much  as  you  think  they  deserve. 

Cleanliness.     Tolerate  no  uncleanliness  in  body,  clothes, 
or  habitation. 

Tranquillity.    Be  not  disturbed  at  trifles,  or  at  accidents 
common  or  unavoidable. 


102  FIFTH    READER. 

35.     MRS.   CAUDLE'S    LECTURE    ON 

SHOPPING. 

This  piece  is  characterized  by  lively  conversational  style,  strong 
emphasis,  and  the  circumflex  inflection. 

L  What's  the  matter  now?  Well,  I  like  that.  Upon 
my  life,  Mr.  Caudle,  that's  very  cool.  I  can't  leave  the 
house  just  to  buy  a  yard  of  ribbon,  but  you  storm 
enough  to  carry  the  roof  off.  You  did  nH  storm? — you 
only  spoke?  Spoke,  indeed.  No,  sir;  I've  not  such 
superfine  feelings;  and  I  don't  cry  out  before  I'm  hurt. 
But  you  ought  to  have  married  a  woman  of  stone,  for 
you  feel  for  nobody:  that  is,  for  nobody  in  your  own 
house.  I  only  wish  you'd  show  some  of  your  humanity 
at  home,  if  ever  so  little — that's  all. 

2.  What  do  you  say?  Where's  my  feelings,  to  go 
a-shopping  at  night?  When  would  you  have  me  go? 
In  the  broiling  sun,  making  my  face  like  a  gypsy's?  I 
do  n't  see  anything  to  laugh  at,  Mr.  Caudle ;  but  you  think 
of  anybody's  face  before  your  ivife^s. 

3.  Oh,  that's  plain  enough;  and  all  the  world  can  see 
it!  I  dare  say,  now,  if  it  was  Miss  Prettyman's  face — 
now^  now  J  Mr.  Caudle!  What  are  you  throwing  yourself 
about  for?  I  suppose  Miss  Prettyman  is  n't  so  won- 
derful a  person  that  she  is  n't  to  be  named?  I  suppose 
she's  flesh  and  blood. 

4.  What  do  you  say?  For  the  love  of  mercy  let  you 
sleep?  Mercy,  indeed!  I  wish  you  could  show  a  httle 
of  it  to  other  people.  O  yes,  I  do  know  what  mercy 
means;  but  that's  no  reason  I  should  go  shopping  a  bit 
earlier  than  I  do — and  I  iiMt. — No;  you've  preached 
this  over  to  me  again  and  again;  you've  made  me  go 
to  meetings  to  hear  all  about  it;  but  that's  no  reason 
women  should  n't  shop  just  as  late  as  they  choose,  Mr. 
Caudle. 


FIFTH    READER.  103 

5.  It's  all  very  fine,  as  I  say,  for  you  men  to  talk 
to  us  at  meetings,  where,  of  course,  we  smile,  and  all 
that — and  sometimes  shake  our  white  pocket-handker- 
chiefs— and  where  you  say  we  have  the  power  of  early 
hours  in  our  own  hands.  To  be  sure  we  have;  and 
we  mean  to  Mep  it.  That  is,  I  do.  You'll  never  catch 
me  shopping  till  the  very  last  thing;  and — as  a  matter 
of  principle — I'll  always  go  to  the  shop  that  keeps 
open  latest. 

Douglas  Jeerold. 


36.     WOUTER   VAN   TWILLER. 

1.  The  renowned  Wouter  (or  Walter)  Van  TwiHer 
was  descended  from  a  long  line  of  Dutch  burgomasters, 
who  had  successively  dozed  away  their  hves,  and  grown 
fat  upon  the  bench  of  magistracy  in  Rotterdam ;  and  who 
had  comported  themselves  with  such  singular  wisdom 
and  propriety,  that  they  were  never  either  heard  or 
talked  of, — which,  next  to  being  universally  applauded, 
should  be  the  object  of  ambition  of  all  ages,  magistrates, 
and  rulers. 

2.  His  surname,  TwiUer,  is  said  to  be  a  corruption 
of  the  original  Tivijfler,  which,  in  English,  means  Doubter; 
a  name  admirably  descriptive  of  his  deliberative  habits. 
For,  though  he  was  a  man  shut  up  within  himself,  like 
an  oyster,  and  of  such  a  profoundly  reflective  turn, 
that  he  scarcely  ever  spoke  except  in  monosyllables,  yet 
did  he  never  make  up  his  mind  on  any  doubtful  point. 

3.  This  was  clearly  accounted  for  by  his  adherents, 
who  affirmed  that  he  always  conceived  every  object 
on  so  comprehensive  a  scale  that  he  had  not  room  in  his 
head  to  turn  it  over  and  examine  both  sides  of  it;  so 
that  he  always  remained  in  doubt,  merely  in  consequence 
of  the  astonishing  magnitude  of  his  ideas! 


104  FIFTH    READER. 

4.  There  are  two  opposite  ways  by  which  some  men 
get  into  notice, — one  by  talking  a  vast  deal,  and  thinking 
a  little,  and  the  other,  by  holding  their  tongues  and  not 
thinking  at  all.  By  the  first,  many  a  vaporing,  super- 
ficial pretender  acquires  the  reputation  of  a  man  of  quick 
parts, — by  the  other,  many  a  vacant  dunderpate,  like 
the  owl,  the  stupidest  of  birds,  comes  to  be  complimented, 
by  a  discerning  world,  with  all  the  attributes  of  wisdom. 

5.  This,  by  the  way,  is  a  mere  casual  remark,  which  I 
would  not,  for  the  universe,  have  it  thought  I  apply  to 
Governor  Van  Twiller.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  a  wise 
Dutchman ;  for  he  never  said  a  foolish  thing, — and  of  such 
invincible  gravity,  that  he  was  never  known  to  laugh,  or 
smile,  through  the  course  of  a  long  and  prosperous  life. 

6.  Certain,  however,  it  is,  there  never  was  a  matter 
proposed,  however  simple,  and  on  which  your  common 
narrow-minded  mortals  would  rashly  deteraiine  at  the 
first  glance,  but  what  the  renowned  Wouter  put  on  a 
mighty  mysterious,  vacant  kind  of  look,  shook  his 
capacious  head,  and  having  smoked,  for  five  minutes, 
with  redoubled  earnestness,  sagely  observed,  that  "he 
had  his  doubts  about  the  matter," — which  in  process  of 
time  gained  him  the  character  of  a  man  slow  in  belief, 
and  not  easily  imposed  on. 

7.  The  person  of  this  illustrious  old  gentleman  was 
as  regularly  formed,  and  nobly  proportioned,  as  though 
it  had  been  moulded  by  the  hands  of  some  cunning 
Dutch  statuary,  as  a  model  of  majesty  and  lordly 
grandeur.  He  was  exactly  five  feet  six  inches  in  height, 
and  six  feet  five  inches  in  circumference.  His  head 
was  a  perfect  sphere,  and  of  such  stupendous  dimensions, 
that  dame  Nature,  with  all  her  sex's  ingenuity,  would 
have  been  puzzled  to  construct  a  neck  capable  of  sup- 
porting it;  wherefore  she  wisely  declined  the  attempt, 
and  settled  it  firmly  on  the  top  of  his  backbone,  just 
between  the  shoulders. 


FIFTH    READER.  105 

8.  His  body  was  of  an  oblong  form,  particularly 
capacious  at  bottom;  which  was  wisely  ordered  by 
Providence, '  seeing  that  he  was  a  man  of  sedentary 
habits,  and  very  averse  to  the  idle  labor  of  walking. 
His  legs,  though  exceeding  short,  were  sturdy  in  pro- 
portion to  the  weight  they  had  to  sustain;  so  that,  when 
erect,  he  had  not  a  little  the  appearance  of  a  robustious 
beer-barrel  standing  on  skids.  His  face,  that  infallible 
index  of  the  mind,  presented  a  vast  expanse,  perfectly 
unfurrowed  or  deformed  by  any  of  those  lines  and  angles 
which  disfigure  the  human  countenance  with  what  is 
termed  expression. 

9.  Two  small  gray  eyes  twinkled  feebly  in  the  midst, 
like  two  stars  of  lesser  magnitude  in  the  hazy  firmament ; 
and  his  fidl-fed  cheeks,  which  seemed  to  have  taken 
toll  of  every  thing  that  went  into  his  mouth,  were 
curiously  mottled  and  streaked  with  dusky  red,  like  a 
Spitzenberg  apple. 

10.  His  habits  were  as  regular  as  his  person.  He 
daily  took  his  four  stated  meals,  appropriating  exactly 
an  hour  to  each;  he  smoked  and  doubted  eight  hours; 
and  he  slept  the  remaining  twelve  of  the  four-and-twenty. 
Such  was  the  renowned  Wouter  Van  TwUler — a  true 
philosopher;  for  his  mind  was  either  elevated  above, 
or  tranquilly  settled  below,  the  cares  and  perplexities  of 
this  world. 

11.  He  had  lived  in  it  for  years,  without  feeling  the 
least  curiosity  to  know  whether  the  sun  revolved  round  it, 
or  it  round  the  sun ;  and  he  had  watched,  for  at  least  haK 
a  century,  the  smoke  curling  from  his  pipe  to  the  ceiling, 
without  once  troubling  his  head  with  any  of  those 
numerous  theories  by  which  the  philosopher  would 
have  perplexed  his  brain,  in  accounting  for  its  rising 
above  the  surrounding  atmosphere.         Washington  irmn.;. 

Supplementary  Reading.  Let  the  class  read  further  extracts  from 
Irving's  "Knickerbocker's  History  of  New  York." 


106  FIFTH    READER. 


37.     THE   UNION. 


1.  While  the  Union  lasts,  we  have  high,  exciting, 
gratifying  prospects  spread  out  before  us, — for  us  and 
our  children.  Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to  penetrate  the 
veil.  God  grant  that,  in  my  day  at  least,  that  curtain 
may  not  rise!  God  grant  that  on  my  vision  never  may 
be  opened  what  lies  behind! 

2.  When  my  eyes  shaU  be  turned  to  behold,  for  the 
last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him  shining 
on  the  broken  and  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once 
glorious  Union;  on  states  dissevered,  discordant,  bellig- 
erent; on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds,  or  drenched,  it 
may  be,  in  fraternal  blood! 

3.  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather 
behold  the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  Republic,  now  known 
and  honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high  ad- 
vanced, its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their  original 
luster,  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  nor  a  single  star 
obscured,  bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable  inter- 
rogatory as.  What  is  aU  this  worth?  nor  those  other 
words  of  delusion  and  folly.  Liberty  first,  and  Union 
afterward;  but  everywhere,  spread  all  over  in  characters 
of  living  hght,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they 
float  over  the  sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in  every  wind 
under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  sentiment,  dear  to 
every  true  American  heart.  Liberty  and  Union,  now  and 
forever,  one  and  inseparable! 


Daniel  Webster. 


11 

WRITTEN 

SPELLING.- 

WORDS    OFTEN   MISSPELI.ED. 

eatable 

indelible 

vegetable           laudable 

edible 

possible 

digestible           palatable 

changeable 

passable 

audible               sensible 

FIFTH    READER.  107 


38.     THE    SEVEN    AGES    OF    MAN. 

All  the  world's  a  stage, 
And  aU  the  men  and  women  merely  players  j 
They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances; 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts, 
His  4cts  being  seven  ages.     At  first,  the  Infant, 
Mewling  and  puking  in  the  nurse's  arms. 
Then  the  whining  sclibol-boy,  with  his  satchel. 
And  shining  morning  face,  creeping,  like  snail. 
Unwillingly  to  school.     And  then  the  IdveTj 
Sighing  like  furnace,  with  a  woful  ballad 
Made  in  his  mistress'  eyebrow.     Then,  a  soldier, 
Full  of  strange  oaths,  and  bearded  Uke  the  p^rd. 
Jealous  in  honor,  sudden  and  quick  in  quarrel. 
Seeking  the  bubble  reputation 

Even  in  the  cdnnon^s  mouth.     And  then  the  justice^ 
With  eyes  severe,  and  beard  of  formal  cut, 
Full  of  wise  saws  and  modern  instances; 
And  so  he  plays  Ms  part.     The  sixth  age  shifts 
Into  the  lean  and  slippered  pantaloon. 
With  spectacles  on  nose,  and  pouch  on  side; 
His  youthful  hose,  weU.  saved,  a  world  too  wide 
For  his  shrunk  shank;  and  his  big  manly  voice, 
Turning  again  toward  childish  treble,  pipes 
And  whistles  in  his  sound.     Last  scene  of  aU, 
That  ends  this  strange  eventful  history. 
Is  second  childishness,  and  mere  oblivion — 

Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans  everything. 

Shakespkare. 

Spelling.  Beqtiire  pupils  to  select  and  dictate  one  or  more  words, 
from  this  piece,  for  spelling. 

Memory  Exercise.  After  training  pupils  to  read  this  extract,  require 
them  to  memorize  it  for  recitation. 

Slate  Work.  Write  from  memory  the  first  two  sentences.  Exchange 
slates,  compare  with  the  book,  and  correct  errors. 


108  FIFTH    READER. 


39.     A   FAMOUS    SEA-FIG-HT. 

1.  John  Paiil  Jones,  the  greatest  naval  hero  of  the 
Revolution,  was  a  Scotchman  who  emigrated  to  America 
about  the  time  of  the  breaking  out  of  the  war.  He 
commanded  the  first  war  vessel  that  floated  the  "Stars 
and  Stripes,"^our  national  flag. 

2.  His  greatest  sea-fight  was  the  capture  of  the 
British  ship  of  war,  the  Serapis,  off  the  coast  of  Scot- 
land. Joneses  ship,  the  Bon  Homme  Eichard,  was 
smaller  than  the  Serapis,  and  carried  fewer  men  and 
lighter  cannon. 

3.  The  battle  was  fought  by  moonlight  and  in  sight 
of  land.  Captain  Jones  boldly  lashed  his  ship  to  the 
side  of  the  Serapis.  The  muzzles  of  the  guns  almost 
touched,  and  the  men  on  each  side  fought  with  desperate 
courage. 

4.  Jones's  ship  was  old  and  rotten,  and  her  sides  were 
soon  blown  to  pieces  by  the  enemy's  guns.  His  vessel 
began  to  leak  badly;  some  of  his  cannon  burst j  but 
Jones  kept  on  fighting. 

5.  Twice  both  vessels  caught  fire.  The  decks  of  both 
ships  were  shppery  with  blood.  After  two  hours'  hard 
fighting  the  Bon  Homme  Bicliard  almost  ceased  firing, 
and  the  British  captain  called  out  to  Jones  to  surrender. 
''I  have  only  begun  to  fight,"  shouted  back  the  un- 
daunted Jones. 

6.  At  length,  after  each  ship  had  lost  two  hundred 
men  in  killed  and  wounded,  the  Serapis  struck  her 
colors.  Jones's  ship  was  by  this  time  in  a  sinking  con- 
dition. He  got  his  crew  on  board  the  Serapis  as  soon 
as  he  could,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  Bon  Homme 
Bichard  went  down. 

Composition.  Write  this  account  from  memory;  then  exchange,  and 
correct  errors. 


FIFTH    READER. 


109 


Old  Mission  Church  at  Santa  Barbara. 


40.     THE    SETTLEMENT   OF   CALIFORNIA. 


Question  the  class,  in  advance,  on  the  leading  facts  of  this  lesson, 
to  ascertain  if  pupils  have  studied  it. 

1.  The  exploration  of  that  region  of  the  Pacific  Coast 
now  known  as  Lower  California,  California,  Arizona, 
and  New  Mexico,  was  begun  by  Spanish  expeditions, 
sent  out  by  Cortes,  soon  after  his  conquest  of  Mexico, 
in  quest  of  fabulous  regions  reported  to  contain  wealthy 
and  populous  cities,  and  to  abound  in  silver  and  gold. 
Similar  expeditions  were  sent  out  by  successive  viceroys 
of  Mexico. 

2.  The  territory  now  included  in  the  State  of  Cali- 
fornia was  discovered,  and  its  coast  explored,  by  Juan 
Rodriguez  Cabrillo,  in  1542. 

3.  The  first  settlement  by  Europeans,  within  the  limits 
of  what  is  now  the  State  of  California,  was  made  at  San 


110  FIFTH    READER. 

Diego^  in  1769,  by  a  party  under  the  leadership  of  Grov- 
emor  Gaspar  de  Portata,  and  Father  Junipero  Serra, 
a  Franciscan  friar. 

4.  This  was  the  first  of  a  chain  of  ^'  Missions/'  extending 
along  the  coast  to  San  Francisco.  They  were  established 
by  the  Franciscan  Fathers  for  the  purpose  of  converting 
the  native  Indians  to  Christianity,  and  preparing  the 
country  for  settlement  by  the  Spanish. 

5.  Into  these  Missions,  or  settlements,  the  natives  were 
gathered,  and  trained  to  till  the  soil  and  raise  live  stock. 
The  Mission  churches  were  spacious  edifices,  built,  in 
general,  of  adobes,  or  sun-dried  bricks,  and  covered 
with  a  roof  of  tiles.  Clustered  around  the  churches 
were  the  humble  dwellings  of  the  Indians. 

6.  At  the  height  of  their  prosperity,  in  1820,  the 
number  of  Christianized  Indians  living  near  the  Missions 
exceeded  30,000.  At  this  time  they  possessed  large 
herds  of  cattle,  sheep,  and  horses,  and  had  accumulated 
considerable  wealth. 

7.  Two  years  later,  Mexico  became  independent  of 
Spain,  and  California  was  made  a  Mexican  province.  In 
1833,  the  Mexican  Congress  opened  the  Mission  lands 
to  settlement  and  colonization.  The  Missions  were  re- 
duced to  parishes,  and  the  general  management  of  affairs 
was  transferred  to  the  teiTitorial  government.  Under 
this  pohcy,  the  Indians  became  gradually  scattered,  and 
their  possessions  absorbed  by  the  new  settlers. 

8.  The  first  American  settler  found  his  way  into 
California  by  sea,  in  1816;  the  first  overland  party,  in 
1841.  American  ships  occasionally  touched  at  the  ports 
of  San  Francisco,  Monterey,  and  San  Diego,  to  take 
cargoes  of  hides  and  tallow.  During  the  war  of  the 
United  States  with  Mexico,  1846-48,  the  Americans  seized 
California,  and  by  the  treaty  of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo,  Feb- 
ruary 2, 1848,  the  province,  together  with  New  Mexico,  was 
ceded  to  the  United  States  for  fifteen  millions  of  doUars. 


FIFTH    READER.  Ill 

9.  It  was  about  this  time  (January  19,  1848),  that 
gold  was  discovered  in  California.  It  was  found  by 
James  W.  Marshall,  an  American,  employed  by  General 
Sutter  in  building  a  saw-mill  on  the  American  River 
at  CcJ.oma.  The  exciting  news  quickly  spread  through 
California,  and  there  was  a  general  rush  for  the  *^new 
diggings." 

10.  As  soon  as  the  news  reached  the  States  east  of  the 
Rocky  mountains,  thousands  of  gold-seekers  set  out  for 
the  new  El  Dorado.  Some  "  crossed  the  Plains,"  in  long 
lines  of  "  emigrant  wagons  f  some  took  the  long  voyage 
"round  the  Horn;"  while  others  came  by  the  "Panama 
route,''  across  the  Isthmus  of  Darien. 

11.  In  1849,  forty  thousand  immigrants  landed  in  San 
Francisco;  thousands  more  came  overland;  and  in  1850, 
the  population  of  California  exceeded  100,000.  Ships 
from  all  parts  of  the  globe  lay  in  the  harbor  of  San 
Francisco,  and  a  great  city  sprang  up  as  if  by  magic. 

12.  In  September,  1849,  a  convention  met  at  Monterey, 
and  framed  a  State  constitution,  and  on  the  9th  of 
September,  1850,  California  was  admitted  to  the  Union 
as  a  State. 

13.  From  1849  to  1860,  the  leading  occupation  of  the 
people  was  gold  mining.  The  yield  of  gold  from  1849 
to  1870  is  estimated  at  over  $1,000,000,000.  Since  1860, 
agriculture  has  been  steadily  developed,  and  the  gold- 
peld  has  steadily  diminished.  A  settled  population  has 
taken  the  place  of  the  migratory  gold-seeker. 


12 

WRITTEN 

SPEIXING.-WOKDS    OFTEN 

MISSPEULED. 

essential 

luscious 

miracle 

obstacle 

Judicial 

seditious 

finical 

farcial 

artificial 

fictitious 

cuticle 

mystical 

palatial 

malicious 

cynical 

vehicle 

112  FIFTH    READER. 


41.     OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

1.  Oliver  Goldsmith  was  born  in  Ireland  in  1728,  and 
died  in  London  in  1774.  His  father  was  a  clergyman. 
He  was  admitted  to  Trinity  College,  Dublin  j  took  the 
degree  of  A.  B.j  was  a  rejected  candidate  for  holy  orders j 
tried  the  study  of  the  law;  spent  eighteen  months  as  a 
medical  student;  was  an  usher  in  a  school;  went  to 
Leyden,  and  thence  set  out  to  travel  over  Europe,  with 
only  his  flute,  a  guinea,  and  one  shirt. 

2.  Returning  to  England,  he  was  assistant  to  a  chemist, 
then  a  proof-reader,  and  a  hack  writer  for  various  jour- 
nals. He  was  afterwards  a  critic,  a  translator,  and  a 
prolific  writer  in  prose  and  poetry.  ^'  The  Yicar  of  Wake- 
field," and  '■''  The  Traveller,"  first  brought  him  into  notice. 
"The  Deserted  Village"  was  received  with  enthusiasm. 
To  his  amiable  father  he  has  given  celebrity  in  Dr. 
Primrose  in  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  and  in  the 
Preacher  in  "  The  Deserted  Village." 

3.  Goldsmith  was  reckless,  thriftless,  but  gentle,  gen- 
erous, and  full  of  love  and  pity.  A  tale  of  distress  would 
take  from  him  his  last  penny.  His  affairs  became  much 
deranged;  and  his  circumstances  preying  upon  his  mind, 
exasperated  the  fever  which  caused  his  death  in  1774, 
at  the  age  of  forty-six.  The  great  charm  of  Goldsmith's 
poetry  is  its  simphcity,  its  tenderness,  its  truth  to  nature, 
and  its  perfect  and  felicitous  comparisons.  As  Dr.  John- 
son has  said: — "Whatever  Goldsmith  wrote,  he  did  it 
better  than  any  other  man;  he  touched  nothing  that 
he  did  not  adorn." 

4.  Thackeray  says  of  him:  "To  be  the  most  beloved 
of  English  writers,  what  a  title  that  is  for  a  man ! 
Wander  he  must,  but  he  carries  away  a  home  relic  with 
him,  and  dies  with  it  on  his  breast.  His  nature  is 
truant;   in  repose,  it  longs  for  change^  as  on  the  jour- 


FIFTH    READER.  113 

ney  it.  looks  back  for  friends  and  quiet.  What  is  the 
charm  of  his  verse,  of  his  style,  and  humor?  His  sweet 
regrets,  his  delicate  compassion,  his  soft  smile,  his  trem- 
ulous sympathy,  the  weakness  which  he  owns!  Your 
love  for  him  is  half  pity.  You  come  hot  and  tired 
from  the  day's  battle,  and  this  sweet  minstrel  sings  to 
you. 

5.  "  Who  could  harm  the  kind,  vagrant  harper!  Whom 
did  he  ever  hurt?  He  carries  no  weapon,  save  the  harp 
on  which  he  plays  to  you  5  and  with  which  he  delights 
great  and  humble,  young  and  old,  the  captains  in  the 
tents  or  the  soldiers  round  the  fire,  or  the  women  and 
children  in  the  villages,  at  whose  porches  he  stops  and 
sings  his  simple  songs  of  love  and  beauty. 

6.  ^'With  that  sweet  story  of  'The  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field,' he  has  found  entry  into  every  castle  and  every 
hamlet  in  Europe.  Not  one  of  us,  however  busy  or 
hard,  but  once  or  twice  in  our  lives  has  passed  an  even- 
ing with  him,  and  undergone  the  charm  of  his  delight- 
ful music. 

7.  '^  Think  of  him  reckless,  thriftless,  vain  if  you  Hke, 
but  merciful,  gentle,  generous,  full  of  love  and  pity. 
He  passes  out  of  our  life,  and  goes  to  render  his  account 
beyond  it.  Think  of  the  poor  pensioners  weeping  at 
his  grave;  think  of  the  noble  spirits  that  admired  and 
deplored  him;  think  of  the  righteous  pen  that  wrote 
his  epitaph,  and  of  the  wonderful  and  unanimous  re- 
sponse of  affection  with  which  the  world  has  paid  back 
the  love  he  gave  it. 

8.  ''His  humor  delights  us  still;  his  song  is  fresh 
and  beautiful  as  when  first  he  charmed  with  it;  his 
words  are  aU  in  our  mouths;  his  very  weaknesses  are 
beloved  and  familiar.  His  benevolent  spirit  seems  still 
to  smile  upon  us;  to  do  gentle  kindnesses;  to  succor 
with  sweet  charity;    to  soothe,  caress,  and  forgive;   to 

plead  with  the  fortunate  for  the  unhappy  and  poor." 

5-8 


114  FEFTH    READER. 


42.     THE   VILLAG-E   PREACHER. 

Near  yonder  copse,  where  once  the  garden  smiled. 

And  still  where  many  a  garden-flower  grows  wild, 

There,  where  a  few  torn  shrubs  the  place  disclose. 

The  village  preacher's  modest  mansion  rose. 

A  man  he  was  to  aU  the  country  dear. 

And  passing  rich  with  forty  pounds  a  year. 

Remote  from  towns  he  ran  his  godly  race. 

Nor  e'er  had  changed,  nor  wished  to  change,  his  place : 

Unskillful  he  to  fawn,  or  seek  for  power. 

By  doctrines  fashioned  to  the  varying  hour; 

Far  other  aims  his  heart  had  learned  to  prize; 

More  bent  to  raise  the  wretched  than  to  rise. 

His  house  was  known  to  all  the  vagrant  train. 

He  chid  their  wanderings,  but  relieved  their  pain; 

The  long-remembered  beggar  was  his  guest, 

Whose  beard  descending  swept  his  aged  breast; 

The  ruined  spendthrift,  now  no  longer  proiid. 

Claimed  kindred  there,  and  had  his  claims  allowed; 

The  broken  soldier,  kindly  bade  to  stay. 

Sat  by  his  fire,  and  talked  the  night  away; 

Wept  o'er  his  wounds,  or,  tales  of  sorrow  done. 

Shouldered  his  crutch,  and  showed  how  fields  were  won. 

Pleased  with  his  guests,  the  good  man  learned  to  glow, 

And  quite  forgot  their  vices  in  their  woe; 

Careless  their  merits  or  their  faults  to  scan, 

His  pity  gave  ere  charity  began. 

Thus  to  relieve  the  wretched  was  his  pride, 

And  e'en  his  failings  leaned  to  virtue's  side; 

But,  in  his  duty  prompt  at  every  call. 

He  watched  and  wept,  he  prayed  and  felt,  for  all; 

And,  as  a  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries 

To  tempt  its  new-fledged  offspring  to  the  skies, 

He  tried  each  art,  reproved  each  dull  delay, 


FIFTH    READER.  115 

Allured  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way. 

Beside  the  bed  where  parting  life  was  laid, 

And  sorrow,  guilt,  and  pain,  by  turns  dismayed, 

The  reverend  champion  stood.     At  his  control. 

Despair  and  anguish  fled  the  struggling  soul; 

Comfort  came  down  the  trembling  Avretch  to  raise, 

And  his  last  faltering  accents  whispered  praise. 

At  church,  with  meek  and  unaffected  grace, 

His  looks  adorned  the  venerable  place; 

Truth  from  his  lips  prevailed  with  double  sway. 

And  fools,  who  came  to  scoff,  remained  to  pray. 

The  service  past,  around  the  pious  man, 

With  ready  zeal,  each  honest  rustic  ran; 

E'en  children  followed  with  endearing  wile. 

And  plucked-  his  gown,  to  share  the  good  man's  smile; 

His  ready  smile  a  parent's  warmth  expressed, 

Their  welfare  pleased  him,  and  their  cares  distressed; 

To  them  his  heart,  his  love,  his  griefs,  were  given, 

But  all  his  serious  thoughts  had  rest  in  heaven: 

As  some  tall  cliff  that  lifts  its  awful  form, 

Swells  from  the  vale,  and  midway  leaves  the  storm. 

Though  round  its  breast  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread, 

Eternal  sunshine  settles  on  its  head. 

From  Goldsmith's  Deserted  Village. 

Dictionary  Lesson.     Find  the  definitions  of  copse,  fawn,  sway, 
yagrant,  allure,  scoff,  rustic,  eternal. 


43.      CIVILIZATION. 

1.  By  civilization  is  meant  the  condition  of  a  people 
in  regard  to  wealth,  comfort,  government,  and  culture. 
All  people  possess  more  or  less  of  the  elements  of  civiliza- 
tion. The  rude  Australian  savage  who  has  learnt  to 
make  fire  by  rubbing  two  sticks  together,  the  Red  Indian 
who  has  learnt  to  make  a  stone  mortar  for  pounding 


116  FIFTH    READER. 

his  corn  in,  the  negro  of  Central  Africa  who  has  learnt 
how  to  make  an  iron  spear-head,  have  all  taken  the 
first  steps  in  civilization. 

2.  AR  the  advanced  nations  have  grown  np  from 
lower  conditions  of  civihzation.  The  lowest  condition 
is  that  state  in  which  men  nse  only  bows  and  arrows 
and  stone  hatchets,  live  by  fishing  and  hunting,  dwell 
in  caves  or  huts,  clothe  themselves  in  the  skins  of  wild 
animals,  delight  in  fighting  and  bloodshed,  and  live 
in  small  tribes  under  chiefs.  The  wild  Indians  of 
America,  and  the  natives  of  many  of  the  Pacific  islands, 
and  many  negroes  of  Africa,  represent  this  stage.  Races 
in  this  condition  are  pagans,  or  people  who  have  no 
correct' idea  of  one  Ood. 

3.  The  next  stage  of  civilization  is  the  middle  one. 
Men  have  now  begun  to  cultivate  the  soilj  and  they  keep 
horses,  sheep,  camels,  and  cattle.  They  may  be  either 
nomads,  living  in  tents,  and  driving  their  flocks  and 
herds  from  one  pasture  ground  to  another,  or  they  may 
be  people  with  fixed  habitations. 

4.  They  have  iron  implements  and  have  learnt  to 
manufacture  cloth  j  they  may  have  a  written  language  j 
they  have  begun  to  trade,  to  have  armies  and  carry  on 
war,  and  to  form  governments.  The  Tartar  tribes  of 
Central  Asia  and  the  Bedouins  of  Northern  Africa 
represent  this  stage. 

5.  The  most  advanced  state  is  that  in  which  the  great 
civilized  nations  now  are — with  books,  machinery,  sciences, 
steamships,  railroads,  and  telegraphs^  with  governments 
founded  on  a  written  lawj  with  schools,  churches,  and 
newspapers  5  with  commerce  and  great  cities. 

6.  The  progress  which  a  people  makes  in  civilization 
is  owing  very  much  to  geographical  position, — to  a  fer- 
tile soil,  favorable  chmate,  mineral  resources,  and  facilities 
for  trading  with  other  people. 

Composition.     Write  an  abstract  from  memory. 


FIFTH    READER.  117 

44.     SUPERSTITIOUS    BELIEFS. 

1.  In  all  ages  of  the  world,  savages  have  believed  in 
evil  spirits  or  demons,  and  have  made  use  of  charms  and 
magic  to  ward  off  their  bad  influences.  There  have  always 
been  medicine-men,  rain-makers,  wizards,  conjurers,  sor- 
cerers, astrologers,  and  fortune-teUers,  ready  to  trade  on 
the  fears  of  the  weak,  the  ignorant,  and  the  superstitious. 

2.  It  is  only  within  two  hundred  years  that  the  belief 
in  magic  has  died  out  among  enlightened  people.  Indeed, 
in  civilized  nations  there  are  millions  that  still  have  a 
lingering  belief  in  ghosts  and  witches.  In  every  great 
city,  in  our  own  country,  there  are  scores  of  "fortune- 
tellers "  that  live  upon  the  superstitions  of  deluded  people, 
who  visit  them  in  the  hope  of  finding  out  what  is  to 
happen  in  the  future. 

3.  Within  two  hundred  years,  many  people  in  our  own 
country,  the  United  States,  were  charged  with  witchcraft, 
tried  and  convicted,  and  some  were  put  to  death. 

In  Europe,  within  five  hundred  years,  it  has  been 
estimated  that  several  hundred  thousand  people  were 
burned  for  being  witches. 

4.  In  those  dark  days,  if  any  one  fell  sick,  it  was 
thought  to  be  the  work  of  witches.  It  was  the  witches 
that  were  said  to  cause  the  storm,  the  drought,  the 
pestilence,  the  frost,  or  the  failure  of  the  crops. 

5.  The  poor  creatures  that  were  charged  with  being 
in  league  with  evil  spirits  were  old  and  helpless.  If 
any  one  had  a  spite  against  his  neighbor,  he  charged 
that  neighbor  with  bewitching  him,  or  his  children,  or 
his  cattle,  or  his  crops. 

6.  It  was  the  sign  of  a  witch  to  be  old  and  wrinkled,- 
to  have  a  squint  eye,  a  squeaking  voice,  or  a  scolding 
tongue.  The  unfortunate  person  accused  of  witchcraft 
was  generally  tortured  into  a  confession  of  guilt,  and 
then  burned  aUve.  Adapted,  from  clodd. 


118  FIFTH    READER. 


45.     MYTHS  ABOUT  ECLIPSES. 

1.  There  is  something  so  weird  and  gloomy  in  eclipses 
of  the  sun  and  moon,  that  we  can  readily  understand 
how  they  have  been  looked  upon,  in  aU  ages,  as  the 
direct  work  of  some  dreadful  power. 

2.  The  Chinese  imagine  them  to  be  caused  by  great 
dragons  trying  to  devour  the  sun  and  moon.  They, 
therefore,  beat  gongs  to  make  the  monsters  let  go  their 
hold. 

3.  Some  tribes  of  American  Indians  think  the  moon 
is  hunted  by  dogs.  Even  in  Europe,  not  more  than 
three  hundred  years  ago,  both  eclipses  and  comets  were 
thought  to  forebode  great  calamities. 

4.  But  astronomers  are  able,  not  only  to  explain  the 
cause  of  eclipses,  but  also  to  predict  the  exact  time  when 
they  will  occur.  An  eclipse  of  the  sun  is  caused  by 
the  passing  of  the  moon  between  the  sun  and  the  earth, 
so  that  the  sun's  rays  are  left  out,  or  cut  off,  for  a 
short  time,  that  is,  when  the  earth  passes  into  the  moon's 
shadow. 

5.  An  eclipse  of  the  moon  occurs  when  the  moon  passes 
into  the  earth's  shadow,  that  is,  when  the  earth  is  in 
a  direct  hue  between  the  moon  and  the  sun. 

Composition.    Write  what  you  can  remember  of  tliis  lesson 

13 


WRITTEN    SPEI.I.ING.-WORDS    OFTEN    MISSPELLED. 

Divide  into  syllables, 

mark  the  accented 

syllahle, 

and  use   the 

proper  diacritical  marks. 

implement 

maintenance 

specimen 

filament 

recompense 

recipe 

exorbitant 

sustenance 

receipt 

independent 

diffidence 

recede 

FIFTH    READER.  110 


46.     RHYME    OF    THE    RAIL. 

John  Godfrey  Saxe,  born  in  Vermont  in  1816,  was  graduated  in  Middlebury 
college,  practiced  law  for  a  few  years,  was  editor  of  different  newspapers,  and  sub- 
sequently became  a  resident  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  He  devoted  himself  to  lecturing 
and  authorship.    He  excelled  in  humorous  and  satirical  poetry. 

This  piece  affords  a  good  illustration  of  quick  movement,  and  the 
circumflex  inflection. 

1.  Singing  through  the  forests, 

Rattling  over  ridges, 
Shooting  under  arches, 

Rumbling  over  bridges; 
Whizzing  through  the  mountains, 

Buzzing  o'er  the  vale — 
Bless  me!  this  is  pleasant, 

Riding  on  the  rail! 

2.  Men  of  different  stations 

In  the  eye  of  fame 
Here  are  very  quickly 

Coming  to  the  same; 
High  and  lowly  people, 

Birds  of  every  feather, 
On  a  common  level, 

Traveling  together! 

3.  Gentlemen  in  shorts, 

Looming  very  tall; 
Gentlemen  at  large, 

Talking  very  small; 
Gentlemen  in  tights. 

With  a  loose-ish  mien; 
Gentlemen  in  gray. 

Looking  rather  green; 


120 


FIFTH    READER. 

4.  G-entlemen  quite  old, 

Asking  for  the  news; 
Gentlemen  in  black, 

In  a  fit  of  blues  5 
Gentlemen  in  claret 

Sober  as  a  vicar; 
Gentlemen  in  tweed 

Dreadfully  in  liquor! 

5.  Stranger  on  the  left, 

Closing  up  his  peepers; 
Now  he  snores  amain 

Like  the  seven  sleepersj 
At  his  feet  a  volume 

Gives  the  explanation, 
How  the  man  grew  stupid 

From  ^'associations''! 

6.  Ancient  maiden  lady 

Anxiously  remarks. 
That  there  must  be  peril 

'Mong  so  many  sparks  j 
Roguish-looking  fellow. 

Turning  to  the  stranger, 
Says  its  his  opinion. 

She  is  out  of  danger! 

7.  Woman  with  her  baby, 

Sitting  vis-a-vis; 
Baby  keeps  a-squalling, 

Woman  looks  at  me; 
Asks  about  the  distance. 

Says  it's  tiresome  talking, 
Noises  of  the  cars 

Are  so  very  shocking! 


FIFTH    READER.  121 

8.  Market  woman^  careful 

Of  the  precious  casket, 
Knowing  eggs  are  eggs, 

Tightly  holds  her  basket; 
Feeling  that  a  smash, 

If  it  came,  would  surely 
Send  her  eggs  to  pot. 

Rather  prematurely. 

9.  Singing  through  the  forests, 

Rattling  over  ridges, 
Shooting  under  arches. 

Rumbling  over  bridges; 
Whizzing  through  the  mountains, 

Buzzing  o'er  the  vale — 
Bless  me!  this  is  pleasant. 

Riding  on  the  rail! 

John  G.  Saxe. 


47.      LIBERTY    OF    THE    PRESS. 

Mark  this  piece  for  infiecUon,  emphasis,  and  pauses.  After  it  is 
read,  assign  it  to  the  boys  of  the  class  for  a  declamation. 

1.  The  liberty  of  the  press  is  the  highest  safeguard 
to  aU  free  government.  Ours  could  not  exist  without 
it.  It  is  like  a  great,  exulting,  and  abounding  river. 
It  is  fed  by  the  dews  of  heaven,  which  distill  their 
sweetest  drops  to  form  it.  It  gushes  from  the  rUl,  as 
it  breaks  from  the  deep  caverns  of  the  earth.  It  is 
augmented  by  a  thousand  affluents,  that  dash  from  the 
mountain  top,  to  separate  again  into  a  thousand  boun- 
teous and  irrigating  streams  around. 

2.  On  its  broad  bosom  it  bears  a  thousand  barks. 
There  genius  spreads  its  purpling  sail.     There  poetry 


122  FIFTH    READER. 

dips  its  silver  oar.  There  art,  invention,  discovery, 
science,  morality,  religion,  may  safely  and  securely  float. 
It  wanders  through  every  land.  It  is  a  genial,  cordial 
source  of  thought  and  inspiration,  wherever  it  touches, 
whatever  it  surrounds.  Upon  its  borders  there  grows 
every  flower  of  grace,  and  every  fruit  of  truth. 

3.  Sir,  I  am  not  here  to  deny  that  that  river  some- 
times oversteps  its  bounds.  I  am  not  here  to  deny 
that  that  stream  sometimes  becomes  a  dangerous  torrent, 
and  destroys  towns  and  cities  upon  its  banks.  But  I 
am  here  to  say  that,  without  it,  civilization,  humanity, 
government,  aU  that  makes  society  itself,  would  disap- 
pear, and  the  world  would  retrogade  to  its  ancient 
barbarism. 

Col.  E.  D.  Baker. 


48.     EDUCATION   IN   THE  UNITED    STATES. 

1.  For  the  purpose  of  public  instruction,  we  hold  every 
man  subject  to  taxation  in  proportion  to  his  property, 
and  we  look  not  to  the  question  whether  he  himself  have 
or  have  not  children  to  be  benefited  by  the  education  for 
which  he  pays.  We  regard  it  as  a  wise  and  liberal  system 
of  police,  by  which  property  and  life  and  the  peace  of 
society  are  secured. 

2.  We  hope  to  excite  a  feeUng  of  responsibility  and  a 
sense  of  character,  by  enlarging  the  capacity  and  increas- 
ing the  sphere  of  intellectual  enjoyment.  By  general  in- 
struction, we  seek,  as  far  as  possible,  to  purify  the  whole 
moral  atmosphere  5  to  keep  good  sentiments  uppermost, 
and  to  turn  the  strong  current  of  feeling  and  opinion, 
as  weU  as  the  censures  of  the  law  and  the  denunciation 
of  rehgion,  against  immorality  and  crime.  Education,  to 
accomplish  the  ends  of  good  government,  should  be  uni- 
versally diffused. 

Daniei,  Websteu. 


FIFTH    READER.  123 


49.     HINTS  ABOUT  LETTER  WRITING-. 

I.  Style. 

The  language  of  letters  should  be  plain  and  familiar. 
The  chief  rule  should  be:  —  Write  as  you  would  speak. 

II.  Form. 


1.  Name  of   Place,  and 
Date  of  Writing. 

2.  Complimentary    Ad- 
dress. 


3.  Body  of  the  letter. 

4.  Complimentary  Close. 

5.  Envelope  Address. 

6.  Postage  Stamp. 


III.    General  Directions. 

1.  Date. — If  you  live  in  a  city,  write,  in  addition  to 
place  and  date,  the  number  and  street  of  your  residence. 
This  is  important  in  cities  having  a  free  post-ofl&ce 
delivery. 

2.  CompUmentary  Address. — Sir  is  very  formal.  Dear 
Sir  is  the  common  business  form,  and  My  Dear  Sir  is 
friendly.  There  are  other  forms  to  be  used,  according 
to  circumstances  and  the  relations  of  the  writer  to  those 
addressed  5  as^  Dear  Madam,  Dear  Sirs,  Gentlemen, 
Ladies,  Friend  Mary,  Dear  Friend,  My  Dear  Friend, 
Dear  Father,  Mother,  Brother,  Sister,  Cousin,  Uncle, 
Aunt,  etc.  ^ 

3.  Body  of  the  Letter. — Do  not  begin  a  letter  with  the 
old-style  formula,  ^'I  take  my  pen  in  hand,"  etc.  If 
possible,  avoid  beginning  a  letter  with  I.  Letters  of 
friendship  should  be  written  very  much  as  you  would 
talk  to  your  friends  if  they  were  present.  Avoid  cross- 
lines  and  long  interlineations.  Never  close  your  letter 
with  apologies  for  haste  or  lack  of  time.  Make  business 
letters  short,  clear,  and  exact.  After  you  have  written 
your  letter,  read  it  over  cai^efullyj    dot   your  i's  and 


124  FIFTH    READER. 

cross  your  fs;  interline  any  omitted  words,  and  erase 
any  misspelled  words^  if  it  can  be  done  neatly;  if  not, 
rewrite  the  letter. 

4.  Complimentary  Close. — The  common  business  form 
of  closing  is,  Yours  respect/iilly;  the  common  friendly 
form  is.  Yours  truly.  According  to  the  taste  or  the 
feelings  of  the  writer,  other  forms  may  be  used;  such 
as,  Yours  sincerely^  Yours  affectionately;  Your  daughter, 
son,  etc.  Whatever  the  form  may  be,  put  a  comma 
after  it,  and  sign  your  name  in  legible  handwriting. 

5.  Envelope  Direction. — Write  the  post-office  address 
in  a  large  and  legible  hand.  The  names  of  many  States 
may  be  abbreviated,  but  others  should  always  be  written 
in  fuU;  as,  Maine,  Ohio,  Missouri,  etc.  A  careless  clerk 
might  easily  mistake  N.  Y.  for  N.  J.,  N.  H.  for  N.  M., 
or  might  think  Miss,  meant  Missouri.  In  addressing 
persons  who  live  in  large  cities,  write  the  name  of  the 
street  and  the  number  of  the  house. 

6.  Postage  Stamps. — Put  a  stamp,  or  stamps,  on  the 
upper  right-hand  corner  of  the  envelope ;  and  in  address- 
ing strangers  on  business  of  your  own,  inclose  a  stamp 
if  you  expect  an  answer. 

7.  Titles. — Mr.,  Mrs.,  or  Miss  are  the  common  titles 
placed  before  the  names  of  persons  addressed.  The  title 
Usq.  is  used  after  names;  but  in  this  country  it  has 
no  particular  meaning.  Many  persons  of  good  taste 
prefer  the  plain  name,  without  Mr.,  Mrs.,  Miss,  or  Esq. 
Messrs.  may  or  may  not  be  prefixed  to  the  name  of  a 
firm,  according  to  taste.  Hofi.  is  properly  applied  to 
members  of  Congress  or  of  State  Legislatures,  and  to 
heads  of  Departments,  either  National  or  State.  Officers 
of  the  army  or  navy  are  to  be  addressed  according  to 
rank;  as.  Gen.,  Col.,  Capt.,  etc.  Clergymen  are  entitled 
to  Itev.;  college  or  university  instructors,  to  Prof.; 
physicians,  to  Dr.,  or  M.  D. — the  latter  following  the 
name. 


FIFTH    READER.  125 

IV.    Exercises. 

To  he  written,  and  read  aloud  as  a  reading  lesson. 

[From  a  hoy  to  his  friend^  ivho  had  got  a  situation.^ 

Outline. — Glad  to  hear  of  your  success — ^hope  you 
will  nke  the  place — father  has  seen  the  village — says  it 
is  very  pretty — do  not  forget  old  friends — am  anxious 
to  know  all  about  it — told  the  boys  at  school — they 
gave  three  cheers  for  you — write  soon. 

[From  a  hoy  applying  for  a  situation.] 

Outline. — Have  seen  your  advertisement — beg  to  offer 
myself. 

[From  a  girl,  spending  her  holidays  with  a  school-fellow 
in  the  country,  to  her  sister  at  home.] 

Outline. — The  farm-house — the  view  from  it — the 
neighboring  village — a  country  walk — gathering  black- 
berries— nutting  in  the  woods — the  evening — the  family 
sitting  around  the  fire,  reading,  working,  and  playing 
quiet  games. 


50.     THE    LADDER   OF    ST.  AUGUSTINE. 

The  teacJwr  should  first  read  this  poem,  line  hy  line,  to  the  class, 
requiring  pupils  to  repeat  in  concert  after  him.  Each  pupil,  in  turn, 
should  then  read  one  stanza  from  the  platform;  and  afterward  the 
class  be  required  to  memorize  the  poem  for  recitation. 

1.    Saint  Augustine!  well  hast  thou  said, 
That  I  of  our  vices  |  we  can  frame  | 
A  ladder,  if  we  wiU  but  tread  | 

Beneath  our  feet  |  each  deed  of  sh^e! 


126  FIFTH    READER. 

2.  All  common  things,  each  day's  events, 

That  I  with  the  hour  |  begin  and  end, 
Our  pleasures  |  and  our  discontents 
Are  rounds  |  by  which  |  we  may  ascend. 

3.  The  low  desire,  the  base  design, 

That  makes  another's  virtues  |  lessj 
The  revel  |  of  the  ruddy  wine, 
And  all  occasions  |  of  excess; 

4.  The  longing  |  for  ignoble  things; 

The  strife  |  for  triumph  |  more  than  truth; 
The  hardening  of  the  heart,  that  brings  \ 
Irreverence  |  for  the  dreams  of  youth; 

5.  All  thoughts  of  ill;   all  evil  deeds. 

That  have  their  root  \  in  thoughts  of  ill; 
Whatever  hinders  |  or  impedes  | 
The  action  |  of  the  noble  will; — 

6.  All  these  |  must  first  |  be  trampled  down  | 

Beneath  our  feet,  if  we  would  gain  | 
In  the  bright  fields  |  of  fair  renown  | 
The  right  |  of  eminent  domain. 

7.  We  have  not  wings,  we  can  not  soar; 

But  we  have  feet  |  to  scale  and  chmb, 
By  slow  degrees,  by  more  and  more, 
The  cloudy  summits  |  of  our  time. 

8.  The  distant  mountains,  that  uprear  | 

Their  solid  bastions  |  to  the  skies. 
Are  crossed  |  by  pathways,  that  appear  | 
As  we  I  to  higher  levels  \  rise. 

9.  The  heights  |  by  great  men  |  reached  and  kept 

Were  not  attained  |  by  sudden  flight, 


FIFTH    READER.  127 

But  they,  while  their  companions  slept, 
Were  toiling  upward  |  in  the  night. 

10.  Standing  |  on  what  |  too  long  |  we  bore  | 

With  shoulders  bent  |  and  downcast  eyes, 
We  may  discern — unseen  before — 
A  path  I  to  higher  destinies; 

11.  Nor  deem  the  irrevocable  Past  | 

As  wholly  wasted,  whoUy  vain. 
If,  rising  on  its  wrecks,  at  last  | 
To  something  nobler  |  we  attain. 

Hexry  W.  Longfellow. 

Dictionary  Lesson.  Define,  and  use  in  sentences  of  your  own, 
with  the  meaning  they  have  in  this  lesson,  the  following  words: 
i^oble,  eminent  domain,  bastions,  irrevocable,  irreverence, 
scale,  destinies,  discontents,  uprear. 


51.     JULIUS    C^SAR. 

Before  this  lesson  is  read,  the  teacher  should  relate  to  the  class  the 
leading  events  in  Roman  history,  connected  with  Ccesar. 

1.  In  person,  Caesar  was  tall  and  slight.  His  features 
were  more  refined  than  was  usual  in  Roman  faces.  The 
forehead  was  wide  and  high,  the  nose  large  and  thin,  the 
Ups  full,  the  eyes  dark-gray  like  an  eagle's,  the  neck 
extremely  thick  and  sinewy.  His  complexion  was  pale. 
His  beard  and  mustache  were  kept  carefully  shaved.  His 
hair  was  short  and  naturally  scanty,  falling  off  toward 
the  end  of  his  life  and  leaving  him  partially  bald.  His 
voice,  especially  when  he  spoke  in  public,  was  high 
and  shrill. 

2.  His  health  was  uniformly  strong  until  his  last 
year,  when  he  became  subject  to  epileptic  fits.     He  was 


128  FIFTH    READER. 

a  great  bather,  and  scrupulously  clean  in  all  his  habits, 
abstemious  in  his  food,  and  careless  in  what  it  consisted, 
rarely  or  never  touching  wine,  and  noting  sobriety  as  the 
highest  of  qualities  when  describing  any  new  people. 

3.  He  was  an  athlete  in  early  life,  admirable  in  all 
manly  exercises,  and  especially  in  riding.  In  Gaul,  as 
has  been  said  already,  he  rode  a  remarkable  horse,  which 
he  had  bred  himself,  and  which  would  let  no  one  but 
Caesar  mount  him. 

4.  From  his  boyhood  it  was  observed  of  him  that  he 
was  the  truest  of  friends,  that  he  avoided  quarrels,  and 
was  most  easily  appeased  when  oifended.  In  manner 
he  was  quiet  and  gentlemanlike,  with  the  natural  courtesy 
of  high  breeding.  On  an  occasion,  when  he  was  dining 
somewhere,  the  other  guests  found  the  oil  too  rancid  for 
them.  Caesar  took  it  without  remark,  to  spare  his 
entertainer's  feeling.  When  on  a  journey  through  a 
forest  with  his  friend  Oppius,  he  came  one  night  to  a 
hut  where  there  was  a  single  bed.  Oppius  being  unwell, 
Caesar  gave  it  up  to  him  and  slept  on  the  ground. 

5.  Of  Caesar,  too,  it  may  be  said  that  he  came  into 
the  world  at  a  special  time  and  for  a  special  object.  The 
old  religions  were  dead,  from  the  pillars  of  Hercules  to 
the  Euphrates  and  the  Nile,  and  the  principles  on  which 
human  society  had  been  constructed  were  dead  also. 
There  remained  of  spiritual  conviction  only  the  common 
and  human  sense  of  justice  and  morality  j  and  out  of  this 
sense  some  ordered  system  of  government  had  to  be  con- 
structed, under  which  quiet  men  could  live  and  labor  and 
eat  the  fruit  of  their  industry. 

6.  Under  a  rule  of  this  material  kind  there  can  be 
no  enthusiasm,  no  chivalry,  no  saintly  aspirations,  no 
patriotism  of  the  heroic  type.  It  was  not  to  last  forever. 
A  new  life  was  about  to  dawn  for  mankind.  Poetry, 
and  faith,  and  devotion  were  to  spring  again  out  of 
the  seeds  which  were  sleeping  in  the  heart  of  humanity. 


FIFTH    READER.  129 

7.  But  the  life  which  is  to  endure  grows  slowly; 
and  as  the  soil  must  be  prepared  before  the  wheat  can 
be  sown,  so  before  the  kingdom  of  heaven  could  throw 
up  its  shoots  there  was  needed  a  kingdom  of  this  world 
where  the  nations  were  neither  torn  in  pieces  by  violence, 
nor  were  rushing  after  false  ideals  a^nd  spurious  ambi- 
tions. 

8.  Such  a  kingdom  was  the  empire  of  the  C^sars — 
a  kingdom  where  peaceful  men  could  work,  think,  and 
speak  as  they  pleased,  and  travel  freely  among  provinces 
ruled  for  the  most  part  by  governors  who  protected  life 
and  property,  and  forbade  fanatics  to  tear  each  other 
in  pieces  for  their  religious  opinions. 

9.  "  It  is  not  lawful  for  us  to  put  any  man  to  death," 
was  the  complaint  of  the  Jewish  priests  to  the  Roman 
governor.  Had  Europe  and  Asia  been  covered  with 
independent  nations,  each  with  a  local  religion  represented 
in  its  ruling  powers,  Christianity  must  have  been  stifled 
in  its  cradle.  If  St»  Paul  had  escaped  the  Sanhedrim 
at  Jerusalem,  he  would  have  been  torn  to  pieces  by  the 
silversmiths  at  Ephesus.  The  appeal  to  Caesar's  judg- 
ment-seat was  the  shield  of  his  mission,  and  alone  made 
possible  his  success. 

10.  And  this  spirit,  which  confined  government  to  its 
simplest  duties,  while  it  left  opinion  unfettered,  was 
especially  present  in  Julius  Caesar  himself.  From  cant 
of  all  kinds  he  was  totally  free.  He  was  a  friend  of  the 
people,  but  he  indulged  in  no  enthusiasm  for  liberty. 
He  never  dilated  on  the  beauties  of  virtue,  or  compli- 
mented, as  Cicero  did,  a  Providence  in  which  he  did  not 
believe.     He  was  too  sincere  to  stoop  to  unreality. 

11.  He  held  to  the  facts  of  this  life  and  to  his  own 
convictions;  and,  as  he  found  no  reason  for  supposing 
that  there  was  a  life  beyond  the  grave,  he  did  not  pretend 
to  expect  it.  He  respected  the  religion  of  the  Roman 
State   as   an   institution   estabUshed  by  the  laws.     He 

5-0 


130 


FIFTH    READER. 


encouraged,  or  left  unmolested,  the  creeds  and  practices 
of  the  uncounted  sects  or  tribes  who  were  gathered  under 
the  eagles.  But  his  own  writings  contain  nothing  to 
indicate  that  he  himseK  had  any  religious  belief  at  all. 
12.  He  saw  no  evidence  that  the  gods  practically  inter- 
fered in  human  affairs.  He  never  pretended  that  Jupiter 
was  on  his  side.  He  thanked  his  soldiers  after  a  victory, 
but  he  did  not  order  Te  Deums  to  be  sung  for  it;  and,  in 
the  absence  of  these  conventionahsms,  he  perhaps  showed 
more  real  reverence  than  he  could  have  displayed  by 
the  freest  use  of  the  formulas  of  pietism. 

Froude. 
DEFINITIONS. 


ep'i  lep  sy,  a  disease  of  the  brain, 

in  which  the  person  attacked 

falls  in  convulsions. 
scru'pu  lous  ly,  with  a  nice  regard 

to  minute  particulars. 
fa  nafics,  persons  wildly  zealous 

in  religious  matters. 
atli'lete,  a  contender  for  victory 

in  feats  of  strength. 


as  pi  ra'tions,  eager  desires  after. 

spu'ri  ous,  illegitimate ;  not  gen- 
uine. 

San^'he  drim,  the  highest  council 
of  the  Jews. 

di  laf  ed,  spoke  at  length ;  en- 
larged. 

Ju'pi  ter,  the  chief  god  of  the 
Romans. 


Composition.    Write  what  you  can  remember  about  Caesar. 


52.     TRANSPOSITION    OF    POETRY    INTO 
PROSE. 


Poetry  is  converted  into  prose,  by  making  such  changes 
in  words  as  are  necessary  to  break  up  the  rhyme  or 
measure;  by  supplying  elliptical  expressions,  and  by 
arranging  the  words  in  their  grammatical  order  as 
follows : 

I.  The  subject  with  its  adjective  elements, — word, 
phrase,  or  clause. 

II.  The  predicate,  consisting  of  a  verb  only;    a  verb 


FIFTH    READER.  131 

and   object,  or   a  neuter  verb   with  its    complement, — 
word,  phrase,  or  clause. 

III.  The  adverbial  element,  consisting  of  a  single 
adverb,  a  phrase,  or  a  clause. 

HiLUSTRATION    OF    TRANSPOSITION. 
POETIC     ORDER. 

Were  a  star  quenched  on  high, 

For  ages  would  its  light. 
Still  traveling  downward  from  the  sky, 

Shine  on  our  mortal  sight. 

So  when  a  great  man  dies. 

For  years  beyond  oui*  ken. 
The  light  he  leaves  behind  him  lies 

Upon  the  paths  of  men. 

Longfellow. 
PROSE     ORDER. 

If  a  star  were  quenched  in  the  heavens,  its  light, 
traveling  downward  from  the  sky,  would  shine  upon  us 
for  ages. 

So  when  a  great  man  dies,  the  light  which  he  leaves 
behind  him  shines,  for  years  beyond  our  ken,  upon  the 
paths  of  mortals. 

EXERCISES. 

In  a  similar  manner,  change  the  following  stanzas,  and  he  prepared 
to  read  the  prose  form  in  the  class. 

1.    Beneath  those  rugged  elms,  that  yew-tree^s  shade. 

Where  heaves  the  turf  in  many  a  moldering  heap, 
Each  in  his  narrow  cell  forever  laid, 

The  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep. 

2.    On  the  grass  land,  on  the  fallow, 
Drop  the  apples,  red  and  yeUowj 
Drop  the  russet  pears  and  mellow  j 
Drop  the  red  leaves  all  the  day. 


132 


FIFTH    READER. 


y'^^J^'^^^^^t/i.^^^ti^  ^^tyi/^  ryA^<t>f^t^t^-^_^ 


53.     -WASHING-TON    IRVING. 

1.  Washington  Irving  was  born  in  the  city  of  New 
York  in  1783,  and  died  in  1859.  His  school  education 
was  not  protracted  beyond  his  16th  year,  when  he  began 
to  study  law.  He  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  but  never 
practiced.  He  spent  many  years  in  Europe,  making  a 
tour  of  the  continent,  and  wandering  in  England  and 
Scotland. 

2.  "The  Sketch-Book,''  with  the  legends  of  "Sleepy 
HoUow"  and  "Rip  Van  Winkle,"  and  the  pictures  of 


FIFTH    READER.  133 

English  life  and  customs,  laid  the  foundation  of  his 
fame  and  fortune.  By  the  first  he  has  made  the  Hudson 
a  classic  river;  by  the  last  he  gained  a  cordial  reception 
and  appreciation  in  England. 

3.  He  is  the  author  of  '^ Bracebridge  Hall,"  "The 
Tales  of  a  Traveller,"  "  The  Life  and  Voyages  of  Colum- 
bus," and  "The  Life  of  Washington."  His  "Knicker- 
bocker's History  of  New  York"  is  a  delightful  and 
amusing  volume.  His  style  is  direct,  simple,  and  natural. 
His  readers  are  touched  by  his  unaffected  pathos,  and 
charmed  equally  by  his  genial  spirit  and  the  play  of 
his  quiet  humor. 

4.  Thackeray  says  of  him :  "  In  America  the  love 
and  regard  for  Irving  was  a  national  sentiment.  It 
seemed  to  me,  during  a  year's  travel  in  the  country, 
as  if  no  one  ever  aimed  a  blow  at  Irving.  All  men 
held  their  hands  from  that  harmless,  friendly  peace- 
maker. I  had  the  good  fortune  to  see  him  at  New 
York,  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  and  Washington,  and  re- 
marked how,  in  every  place,  he  was  honored  and  wel- 
comed. Every  large  city  has  its  ^Irving  House.'  The 
country  takes  pride  in  the  fame  of  its  men  of  letters. 

5.  "In  his  family,  gentle,  generous,  good-humored, 
affectionate,  self-denying;  in  society,  a  delightful  example 
of  complete  gentlemanhood ;  quite  unspoiled  by  pros- 
perity; never  obsequious  to  the  great  (or,  worse  still, 
to  the  base  and  mean,  as  some  public  men  are  forced 
to  be  in  his  and  other  countries);  eager  to  acknowledge 
every  contemporary's  merit;  always  kind  and  affable  with 
the  young  members  of  his  caUing;  in  his  professional 
bargains  and  mercantile  dealings  delicately  honest  and 
grateful.  He  was,  at  the  same  time,  one  of  the  most 
charming  masters  of  our  lighter  language;  the  constant 
friend  to  us  and  our  nation;  to  men  of  letters  doubly 
dear,  not  for  his  wit  and  genius  merely,  but  as  an  ex- 
emplar, of  goodness,  probity,  and  a  pure  life." 


134  FIFTH    READER. 

54.     MIDNIGHT   ADVENTURE    OF    ICHABOD 
CRANE. 

1.  It  was  the  very  witching-time  of  night  that  Ichabod, 
heavy-hearted  and  crestfallen,  pursued  his  travels  home- 
wards, along  the  sides  of  the  lofty  hills  which  rise  above 
Tarrytown,  and  which  he  had  traversed  so  cheerily  in 
the  afternoon.  The  hour  was  as  dismal  as  himself. 
Far  below  him  the  Tappan  Zee  spreads  its  dusky  and 
indistinct  waste  of  waters,  with  here  and  there  the  tall 
mast  of  a  sloop,  riding  quietly  at  anchor  under  the  land. 

2.  In  the  dead  hush  of  midnight  he  could  even  hear 
the  barking  of  the  watch-dog  from  the  opposite  shore 
of  the  Hudson;  but  it  was  so  vague  and  faint  as  only 
to  give  an  idea  of  his  distance  from  this  faithful  com- 
panion of  man.  Now  and  then,  too,  the  long-drawn 
crowing  of  a  cock,  accidentally  awakened,  would  sound 
far,  far  off,  from  some  farm-house  away  among  the 
hills;  but  it  was  like  a  dreaming  sound  in  his  ear.  No 
signs  of  Hfe  occurred  near  him,  but  occasionally  the 
melancholy  chirp  of  a  cricket,  or  perhaps  the  guttural 
twang  of  a  bull -frog  from  a  neighboring  marsh,  as 
if  sleeping  uncomfortably,  and  turning  suddenly  in  his 
bed. 

8.  All  the  stories  of  ghosts  and  goblins  that  he  had 
heard  in  the  afternoon  now  came  crowding  upon  his 
recollection.  The  night  grew  darker  and  darker;  the 
stars  seemed  to  sink  deeper  in  the  sky,  and  driving 
clouds  occasionally  hid  them  from  his  sight.  He  had 
never  felt  so  lonely  and  dismal.  He  was,  moreover, 
approaching  the  very  place  where  many  of  the  scenes 
of  the  ghost-stories  had  been  laid. 

4.  In  the  center  of  the  road  stood  an  enormous  tulip- 
tree,  which  towered  like  a  giant  above  all  the  other 
trees  of  the  neighborhood,  and  formed  a  kind  of  land- 


FIFTH    READER.  135 

mark.  Its  limbs  were  gnarled  and  fantastic,  large 
enough  to  form  trunks  for  ordinary  trees,  twisting 
down  almost  to  the  earth,  and  rising  again  into  the 
air.  It  was  connected  with  the  tragical  story  of  the 
unfortunate  Andre,  who  had  been  taken  prisoner  hard 
by,  and  was  universally  known  by  the  name  of  Major 
Andre's  tree.  The  common  people  regarded  it  with  a 
mixture  of  respect  and  superstition,  partly  out  of  sym- 
pathy for  the  fate  of  its  ill-starred  namesake,  and  partly 
from  the  tales  of  strange  sights  and  doleful  lamentations 
told  concerning  it. 

5.  As  Ichabod  approached  this  fearful  tree,  he  began  to 
whistle:  he  thought  his  whistle  was  answered;  it  was 
but  a  blast  sweeping  sharply  through  the  dry  branches. 
As  he  approached  a  little  nearer,  he  thought  he  saw 
something  white  hanging  in  the  midst  of  the  tree:  he 
paused,  and  ceased  whistling,  but,  on  looking  more 
narrowly,  perceived  that  it  was  a  place  where  the  tree 
had  been  scathed  by  lightning,  and  the  white  wood 
laid  bare.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  groan, — his  teeth  chat- 
tered, and  his  knees  smote  against  the  saddle:  it  was 
but  the  rubbing  of  one  huge  bough  upon  another,  as 
they  were  swayed  about  by  the  breeze.  He  passed  the 
tree  in  safety;  but  new  perils  lay  before  him. 

6.  About  two  hundred  yards  from  the  tree  a  smaU. 
brook  crossed  the  road,  and  ran  into  a  marshy  and 
thickly  wooded  glen,  known  by  the  name  of  Wiley's 
Swamp.  A  few  rough  logs,  laid  side  by  side,  served  for 
a  bridge  over  this  stream.  On  that  side  of  the  road 
where  the  brook  entered  the  wood,  a  group  of  oaks  and 
chestnuts,  matted  thick  with  wild  grape-vines,  threw  a 
cavernous  gloom  over  it, 

7.  To  pass  this  bridge  was  the  severest  trial.  It  was 
at  this  identical  spot  that  the  unfortunate  Andre  was 
captured,  and  under  the  covert  of  those  chestnuts  and 
vines  were  the  sturdy  yeomen  concealed  who  surprised 


136  FIFTH    READER. 

him.  This  has  ever  since  been  considered  a  haunted 
stream,  and  fearful  are  the  feelings  of  the  school-boy 
who  has  to  pass  it  alone  after  dark. 

8.  As  he  approached  the  stream,  his  heart  began  to 
thump:  he  summoned  up,  however,  all  his  resolution, 
gave  his  horse  half  a  score  of  kicks  in  the  ribs,  and 
attempted  to  dash  briskly  across  the  bridge;  but  instead 
of  starting  forward,  the  perverse  old  animal  made  a 
lateral  movement,  and  ran  broadside  against  the  fence. 
Ichabod,  whose  fears  increased  with  the  delay,  jerked 
the  reins  on  the  other  side,  and  kicked  lustily  with  the 
contrary  foot:  it  was  all  in  vain.  His  steed  started,  it 
is  true;  but  it  was  only  to  plunge  to  the  opposite  side 
of  the  road,  into  a  thicket  of  brambles  and  alder-bushes. 

9.  The  school-master  now  bestowed  both  whip  and  heel 
upon  the  starveling  ribs  of  old  Gunpowder,  who  dashed 
forward  snuffling  and  snorting,  but  came  to  a  stand  just 
by  the  bridge  with  a  suddenness  that  had  nearly  sent 
his  rider  sprawling  over  his  head.  Just  at  this  moment 
a  plashy  tramp  by  the  side  of  the  bridge  caught  the 
sensitive  ear  of  Ichabod.  In  the  dark  shadow  of  the 
grove,  on  the  margin  of  the  brook,  he  beheld  something 
huge,  misshapen,  black,  and  towering.  It  stirred  not, 
but  seemed  gathered  up  in  the  gloom,  like  some  gigantic 
monster  ready  to  spring  upon  the  traveler. 

10.  The  hair  of  the  affrighted  pedagogue  rose  upon  his 
head  with  terror.  "What  was  to  be  done?  To  turn  and 
fly  was  now  too  late;  and,  besides,  what  chance  was 
there  of  escaping  ghost  or  goblin,  if  such  it  was,  which 
could  ride  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind?  Summoning 
up,  therefore,  a  show  of  courage,  he  demanded  in  stam- 
mering accents — "Who  are  youT'  He  received  no  reply. 
He  repeated  his  demand  in  a  stiU.  more  agitated  voice. 
Still  there  was  no  answer.  Once  more  he  cudgeled  the 
sides  of  the  inflexible  Gunpowder,  and,  shutting  his  eyes, 
broke  forth  witli  involuntary  fervor  into  a  psabn-tune. 


FIFTH    READER.  137 

11.  Just  then  the  shadowy  object  of  alarm  put  itself 
in  motion,  and  with  a  scramble  and  a  bound  stood  at 
once  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Though  the  night  was 
dark  and  dismal,  yet  the  form  of  the  unknown  might 
now  in  some  degree  be  ascertained.  He  appeared  to  be 
a  horseman  of  large  dimensions,  and  mounted  on  a  black 
horse  of  powerful  frame.  He  made  no  offer  of  molesta- 
tion or  sociability,  but  kept  aloof  on  one  side  of  the 
road,  jogging  along  on  the  blind  side  of  old  Gunpowder, 
who  had  now  got  over  his  fright  and  waywardness. 

12.  Ichabod,  who  had  no  relish  for  this  strarfge  mid- 
night companion,  and  bethought  himself  of  the  adventure 
of  Brom  Bones  with  the  Galloping  Hessian,  now  quick- 
ened his  steed  in  hopes  of  leaving  him  behind.  The 
stranger,  however,  quickened  his  horse  to  an  equal  pace. 
Ichabod  pulled  up,  and  fell  into  a  walk,  thinking  to  lag 
behind:  the  other  did  the  same.  His  heart  began  to 
sink  within  him;  he  endeavored  to  resume  his  psalm- 
tune,  but  his  parched  tongue  clave  to  the  roof  of  his 
mouth,  and  he  could  not  utter  a  stave.  There  was  some- 
thing in  the  moody  and  dogged  silence  of  his  pertinacious 
companion  that  was  mysterious  and  appalling. 

13.  It  was  soon  fearfully  accounted  for.  On  mounting 
a  rising  ground,  which  brought  the  figure  of  his  fellow- 
traveler  in  relief  against  the  sky,  gigantic  in  height, 
and  muflled  in  a  cloak,  Ichabod  was  horror-struck  on 
perceiving  that  he  was  headless !  But  his  horror  was 
still  more  increased  on  observing  that  the  head,  which 
should  have  rested  on  his  shoulders,  was  carried  before 
him  on  the  pommel  of  the  saddle:  his  terror  rose  to 
desperation;  he  rained  a  shower  of  kicks  and  blows 
upon  Gunpowder,  hoping  by  a  sudden  movement  to  give 
his  companion  the  slip,  but  the  specter  started  full  jump 
with  him.  Away  then  they  dashed,  through  thick  and 
thin,  stones  flying  and  sparks  flashing  at  every  bound. 
Ichabod's  flimsy   garments   fluttered  in   the   air,   as  he 


138  FIFTH     READER. 

stretched  his  long,  lank  body  away  over  his  horse's  head, 
in  the  eagerness  of  his  flight. 

14.  They  had  now  reached  the  road  which  turns  off 
to  Sleepy  Hollow ;  but  Gunpowder,  who  seemed  possessed 
with  a  demon,  instead  of  keeping  upon  it,  made  an  op- 
posite turn,  and  plunged  headlong  down  the  hill  to  the 
left.  This  road  leads  through  a  sandy  hollow,  shaded 
by  trees  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  where  it  crosses 
the  bridge  famous  in  goblin  story;  and  just  beyond 
sweUs  the  green  knoll  on  which  stands  the  white- 
washed church. 

15.  As  yet  the  panic  of  the  steed  had  given  his  un- 
skillful rider  an  apparent  advantage  in  the  chase;  but 
just  as  he  had  got  half-way  through  the  hollow,  the 
girths  of  the  saddle  gave  way,  and  he  felt  it  slipping 
from  under  him.  He  seized  it  by  the  pommel,  and  en- 
deavored to  hold  it  firm,  but  in  vain;  and  had  just  time 
to  save  himself  by  clasping  old  Gunpowder  round  the 
neck,  when  the  saddle  fell  to  the  earth,  and  he  heard 
it  trampled  under  foot  by  his  pursuer. 

16.  For  a  moment  the  terror  of  Hans  Van  Rippei^s  wrath 
passed  across  his  mind, — for  it  was  his  Sunday  saddle; 
but  this  was  no  time  for  petty  fears;  the  goblin  was 
hard  on  his  haunches,  and  (unskillful  rider  that  he  was!) 
he  had  much  ado  to  maintain  his  seat,  sometimes  slipping 
on  one  side,  sometimes  on  the  other,  and  sometimes 
jolted  on  the  high  ridge  of  his  horse's  backbone  with 
a  violence  that  he  verily  feared  would  cleave  him  asunder. 

17.  An  opening  in  the  trees  now  cheered  him  with 
the  hopes  that  the  church  bridge  was  at  hand.  The 
wavering  reflection  of  a  silver  star  in  the  bosom  of  the 
brook  told  him  that  he  was  not  mistaken.  He  saw  the 
walls  of  the  church  dimly  glaring  under  the  trees 
beyond.  He  recollected  the  place  where  Brom  Bones's 
ghostly  competitor  had  disappeared.  ^^  If  I  can  but  reach 
that  bridge,"  thought  Ichabod,  "I  am  safe." 


FIFTH    READER.  139 

18.  Just  then  he  heard  the  black  steed  panting  and 
blowing  close  behind  him:  he  even  fancied  that  he  felt 
his  hot  breath.  Another  convulsive  kick  in  the  ribs, 
and  old  Gunpowder  sprang  upon  the  bridge;  he  thun- 
dered over  the  resounding  planks ;  he  gained  the  opposite 
side:  and  now  Ichabold  cast  a  look  behind,  to  see  if  his 
pursuer  should  vanish,  according  to  rule,  in  a  flash  of 
fire  and  brimstone.  Just  then  he  saw  the  goblin  rising 
in  his  stirrups,  and  in  the  very  act  of  hurling  his  head 
at  him.  Ichabod  endeavored  to  dodge  the  horrible 
missile,  but  too  late.  It  encountered  his  cranium  with 
a  tremendous  crash:  he  was  tumbled  headlong  into 
the  dust,  and  Grunpowder,  the  black  steed,  and  the  goblin 
rider  passed  by  like  a  whirlwind. 

Wasuington  Irving. 


55.     ARNOLD   WINKELRIED. 

TJiis  extract  is  an  example  of  impassioned  narrative  and  description, 
requiring  strong  force,  radical  stress,  and,  in  general,  quick  movement. 
Let  the  hoys  memorize  it  for  declamation. 

^^Make  waij  for  lAbertj/!''  he  cried — 

Made  way  for  liberty  and  died! 

In  arms  the  Austrian  Phalanx  stood, 

A  living  wall,  a  human  tvood; 

Impregnable  their  front  appears, 

All  horrent  with  projected  spears. 

Opposed  to  these,  a  hovering  band 

Contending  for  their  fctther-lsmd, 

Peasants,  whose  new-found  strength  had  broke 

From  manly  necks  the  ignoble  yoke: 

Marshaled  once  more  at  freedom's  call. 

They  came  to  conquer — or  to  fall. 

And  now  the  work  of  life  and  death 

Hung  on  the  passing  of  a  breath  j 


140  FIFTH    READER. 

The  fire  of  conflict  burned  within  j 
The  battle  trembled  to  begin. 
Yet,  while  the  Austrians  held  their  ground, 
Point  for  assault  was  nowhere  found; 
.  Where'er  the  impatient  Switzers  gazed, 
The  unbroken  line  of  Idnces  blazed  j 
That  Hne  'twere  suicide  to  meet, 
And  perish  at  their  tyrants'  feet; 
How  could  they  rest  within  their  graves, 
And  leave  their  homes  the  haunts  of  slaves. 
Would  they  not  feel  their  children  tread. 
With  clanking  chains,  above  their  head! 
It  must  not  he:  this  day,  this  hour, 
Annihilates  the  invader's  power! 
All  Switzerland  is  in  the  field — 
She  will  not  fly ;  she  cannot  yield; 
She  must  not  fall;  her  better  fate 
Here  gives  her  an  immortal  date. 
Few  were  the  numbers  she  could  boast, 
But  every  freeman  was  a  host. 
And  felt  as  'twere  a  secret  known 
That  one  should  turn  the  scale  al6ne, 
While  each  unto  himself  was  he 
On  whose  sole  arm  hung  victory: 
It  did  depend  on  one  indeed; 
Behold  him — Arnold  Wlnlcelried. 
There  sounds  not  to  the  trump  of  fame 
The  echo  of  a  nobler  name. 
Unmarked,  he  stood  amid  the  throng 
In  rumination  deep  and  long. 
Till  you  might  see,  with  sudden  grace, 
The  very  thought  come  o'er  his  face; 
And,  by  the  motion  of  his  form, 
Anticipate  the  bursting  storm; 
And,  by  the  uplifting  of  his  brow, 
Tell  where  the  bolt  would  strike,  and  how. 


FIFTH    READER.  141 

But  'twas  no  sooner  thought  than  ddne — 

The  field  was  in  a  moment  won! 

^'Make  ivay  for  Idberty!"  he  cried, 

Then  ran,  with  arms  extended  wide, 

As  'if  his  dearest  friend  to  clasp ; 

Ten  spears  he  swept  within  his  grasp. 

^^Make  way  for  Liberty!"  he  cried; 

Their  keen  points  crossed  from  side  to  side; 

He  bowed  among  them  like  a  tree. 

And  thus  made  way  for  Liberty. 

Swift  to  the  breach  his  comrades  fly — 

^'Make  way  for  Liberty!"  they  cry, 

And  through  the  Austrian  phalanx  dart, 

As  rushed  the  spears  through  ArnoMs  heart j 

While,  instantaneous  as  his  fall, 

Rout,  ruin,  panic  seized  them  all; 

An  earthquake  could  not  overthrow 

A  city  with  a  surer  blow. 

Thus  Switzerland  agdin  was  free — 

Thus  Death  made  way  for  Liberty. 

James  Montoomert. 

Dictionary  Lesson.  Find  the  definitions  of  the  following  words: 
phalanx,  impregnable,  ignoble,  annihilates,  anticipates,  panic, 
nunination.     Write  each  word  in  a  sentence  of  your  own. 


56.     ESQUIMAU   DOG   TEAMS. 

1.  Every  school-boy  knows  that  the  hardy  Esquimaux, 
warmly  clad  in  furs,  take  long  journeys,  during  the 
Arctic  winters,  on  sledges,  drawn  by  dog  teams.  Dr. 
Kane  gives  the  following  account  of  a  meeting  with 
a  party  of  Esquimaux. 

2.  "I  went  up  from  the  cabin,  followed  by  as  many 
as  could  mount  the  gangway;  and  there  they  were,  on 
all  sides  of  the  rocky  harbor,  dotting  the  snow  shores 


142  FIFTH    READER. 

and  emerging  from   the  blackness   of   the   cliffs, — wild 
and  uncouth,  but  evidently  human  beings. 

3.  "  Their  leader,  like  a  brave  fellow,  leaped  down  the 
floe,  and  advanced  to  meet  me  half-way.  He  was 
nearly  a  head  taller  than  myself,  extremely  powerful 
and  weU-built,  with  swarthy  complexion  and  piercing 
black  eyes.  His  dress  was  a  hooded  capote,  or  jumper, 
of  mixed  white  and  blue  fox-pelts,  arranged  with  some- 
thing of  fancy,  and  booted  trousers  of  white  bear-skin, 
which,  at  the  end  of  the  foot,  were  made  to  terminate 
with  the  claws  of  the  animals. 

4.  "Although  this  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  seen 
a  white  man,  he  went  with  me  fearlessly  into  the  cabin, 
his  companions  remaining  behind  on  the  ice. 

5.  "  I  soon  sent  word  to  the  others,  and  they  brought 
up  from  behind  the  land  ice  as  many  as  fifty-six  fine 
dogs,  with  their  sledges,  and  secured  them  within  two 
hundred  feet  of  the  brig,  driving  their  lances  into  the 
ice,  and  picketing  the  dogs  to  them  by  the  seal-skin 
traces.  When  they  were  first  allowed  to  come  on  board, 
they  were  very  rude  and  difficult  to  manage.  They  were 
incessantly  in  motion,  going  every-where,  trying  doors, 
and  squeezing  themselves  through  dark  passages,  round 
casks  and  boxes,  and  out  into  the  Hght  again,  anxious 
to  touch  and  handle  everything  they  saw,  and  asking 
for,  or  else  endeavoring  to  steal,  everything  they 
touched.    *     *     * 

G.  "  They  ate  their  walrus  meat  on  the  ice.  They  did 
not  eat  all  at  once,  but  each  man,  when  and  as  often, 
as  impulse  prompted  him.  Each  slept  after  eating,  his 
raw  chunk  lying  beside  him;  and,  as  he  woke,  the  first 
act  was  to  eat,  and  the  next  to  sleep  again.  They  did 
not  lie  down,  but  slumbered  away  in  a  sitting  posture, 
with  the  head  declined  upon  the  breast,  some  of  them 
snoring  famously. 

7.   "In  the  morning  they  were  anxious  to  go.     I  gave 


FIFTH    READER. 


143 


them  leave  J   they  yoked  in  their  dogs  in  less  than  two 
minutes,  got  on  their  sledges,  cracked  their  fifteen-feet 
long    seal-skin   whips,   and   were   off   down   ice   to   the 
south-west  at  a  rate  of  seven  knots  an  hour.. 
8.    "The  Esquimau  dog  is  driven  by  a  single  trace, 


a  long  thin  thong 
of  seal  or  walrus 
'  hide,  which  passes 
■<.„  '  from  liis  chest  over 
his  haunches  to  the  sledge.  The  team  is  always  driven 
abreast,  and  the  traces  are,  of  course,  tangling  and 
twisting  themselves  up  incessantly,  as  the  half-wild  or 
terrified  brutes  bound  right  or  left  from  their  prescribed 
positions. 

9.  "The  consequence  is,  that  the  seven,  or  nine,  or 
fourteen  lines  have  a  marvelous  aptitude  at  knotting 
themselves  up  beyond  the  reach  of  skill  and  patience. 
If  the  weather  is  warm  enough  to  thaw  the  snow,  the 
lines  become  soft,  and  the  knots  may  be  untied;  but 
in  cold  weather,  the  knife  must  be  used  to  cut  the  traces. 

10.  "The  dog- whip  is  six  yards  long,  and  the  handle 
but  sixteen  inches, — rather  a  short  lever,  to  throw  out 


144  FIFTH    READER. 

such  a  length  of  seal-hide.  Learn  to  do  it,  however, 
with  a  masterly  sweep,  or  else  make  np  your  mind  to 
forego  driving  sledge  j  for  the  dogs  are  guided  solely 
by  the  lash,  and  you  must  be  able,  not  only  to  hit  any 
particular  dog  out  of  the  team  of  twelve,  but  also  to 
accompany  the  feat  with  a  resounding  crack.  After 
this,  you  find  that  to  get  your  lash  back  involves 
another  difficulty  j  for  it  is  apt  to  entangle  itself  among 
the  dogs  and  lines,  or  to  fasten  itseK  cunningly  round 
bits  of  ice,  so  as  to  drag  you  head  over  heels  into  the 
snow. 

11.  ''The  secret  by  which  this  complicated  set  of 
requirements  is  fulfilled  consists  in  properly  describing 
an  arc  from  the  shoulder,  with  a  stiif  elbow,  giving  the 
jerk  to  the  whip-handle  from  the  hand  and  wrist  alone. 
The  lash  trails  behind  you  as  you  travel,  and,  when 
thrown  forward,  is  allowed  to  extend  itself  without  an 
effort  to  bring  it  back. 

12.  "You  wait  patiently  after  giving  the  projected 
impulse  until  it  unwinds  its  slow  length,  reaches  the 
end  of  its  tether,  and  cracks  to  teU  you  that  it  is  at 
its  journey's  end.  Such  a  crack  on  the  ear  or  forefoot 
of  an  unfortunate  dog  is  signalized  by  a  howl  quite 
unmistakable  in  its  import. 

13.  ''The  mere  labor  of  using  this  whip  is  such  that 
the  Esquimaux  travel  in  couples,  one  sledge  after  the 
other.  The  hinder  dogs  follow  mechanically,  and  thus 
require  no  whip;  and  the  drivers  change  about  so  as 
to  rest  each  other." 

Selected  and  adapted  from  Kane's  Arctic  Explorations. 

14 


WRITTEN    SPELLING.— WORDS    OFTEN  MISSPELLED. 

pleurisy  courtesy  symmetry  syllable 

privacy  intimacy  fricassee  cylinder 

secrecy  synonym  proboscis  beginning 


FIFTH    READER.  145 


57.     GREECE. 


1.  Clime  of  the  unforgotten  brave! 
Whose  land  from  plain  to  mountain-cave 
Was  Freedom's  home  or  Glory's  grave! 
Shrine  of  the  mighty!   can  it  be 

That  this  is  all  remains  of  thee? 
Approach,  thou  craven,  crouching  slave! 

Say,  is  not  this  Thermopylae? 
These  waters  blue  that  round  you  lave, 

0  servile  offspring  of  the  free — 
Pronounce  what  sea,  what  shore  is  this. 
The  gulf,  the  rock,  of  Salamis! 

2.  These  scenes,  their  story  not  unknown, 
Arise,  and  make  again  your  own: 
Snatch  from  the  ashes  of  your  sires 
The  embers  of  their  former  fires  j 
And  he  who  in  the  strife  expires 
Will  add  to  theirs  a  name  of  fear, 
That  Tyranny  shall  quake  to  hear. 
And  leave  his  sons  a  hope,  a  fame, 
They  too  will  rather  die  than  shame  j 
For  Freedom's  battle  once  begun. 
Bequeathed  by  bleeding  sire  to  son. 
Though  baflled  oft,  is  ever  won. 

3.  Bear  witness,  Greece,  thy  living  page 
Attest  it,  many  a  deathless  age! 
While  kings,  in  dusky  darkness  hid, 
Have  left  a  nameless  pyramid. 

Thy  heroes,  though  the  general  doom 
Hath  swept  the  column  from  their  tomb, 
A  mightier  monument  command — 
The  mountains  of  their  native  land! 

Byron, 

5-10 


146  FIFTH    READER. 


58.     ECONOMY   OF    TIME. 

["Lost,  yesterday,  somewhere  between  sunrise  and  sunset,  two  golden  hours,  each  set 
with  sixty  diamond  minutes.  No  reward  is  offered,  for  they  are  gone  forever." — 
Horace  Mann.] 

1.  One  of  the  most  important  lessons  to  be  learned 
in  life  is  the  art  of  economizing  time.  A  celebrated 
Italian  was  wont  to  call  his  time  his  estate;  and  it  is 
true  of  this  as  of  other  estates  of  which  the  young 
come  into  possession,  that  it  is  rarely  prized  till  it  is 
nearly  squandered. 

2.  Habits  of  indolence,  listlessness,  and  procrastination^ 
once  firmly  fijsed,  cannot  be  suddenly  thrown  off,  and 
the  man  who  has  wasted  the  precious  hours  of  life's 
seed-time  finds  that  he  cannot  reap  a  harvest  in  life's 
autumn.  Lost  wealth  may  be  replaced  by  industry,  lost 
knowledge  by  study,  lost  health  by  temperance  or  medi- 
cine; but  lost  time  is  gone  forever. 

3.  In  the  long  catalogue  of  excuses  for  the  neglect 
of  duty,  there  is  none  which  drops  oftener  from  men's 
lips,  or  which  is  founded  on  more  of  self-delusion,  than 
the  want  of  leisure.  People  are  always  cheating  them- 
selves with  the  idea  that  they  would  do  this  or  that 
desirable  thing,  ^^if  they  only  had  time." 

4.  It  is  thus  that  the  lazy  and  the  selfish  excuse  them- 
selves from  a  thousand  things  which  conscience  dictates 
to  be  done.  Now,  the  truth  is,  there  is  no  condition 
in  which  the  chance  of  doing  any  good  is  less  than  in 
that  of  leisure. 

5.  Go,  seek  out  the  men  in  any  community  who  have 
done  the  most  for  their  own  and  the  general  good,  and 
you  will  find  they  are — who  1  Wealthy,  leisurely  people, 
who  have  abundance  of  time  to  themselves,  and  nothing 
to  do  ?  No ;  they  are  almost  uniformly  the  men  who  are 
in  ceaseless  activity  from  January  to  December.     Such 


FIFTH    READER.  147 

men,  however  pressed  with  business,  are  always  found 
capable  of  doing  a  little  more;  and  you  may  rely  on 
them  in  their  busiest  seasons  with  ten  times  more  assur- 
ance than  on  idle  men. 

6.  There  is  an  instinct  that  tells  us  that  the  man  who 
does  much  is  most  likely  to  do  more,  and  to  do  it  in 
the  best  manner.  The  reason  is,  that  to  do  increases 
the  power  of  doing;  and  it  is  much  easier  for  one  who 
is  always  exerting  himself  to  exert  himself  a  little 
more,  than  for  him  who  does  nothing  to  rouse  himself 
to  action.  Give  a  busy  man  ten  minutes  to  write  a 
letter,  and  he  will  dash  it  off  at  once;  give  an  idle  man 
a  day,  and  he  will  postpone  it  till  to-morrow  or  next 
week.  There  is  a  momentum  in  the  active  man  which 
of  itself  almost  carries  him  to  the  mark,  just  as  a  very 
light  stroke  will  keep  a  hoop  agoing,  while  a  smart 
one  was  required  to  set  it  in  motion. 

7.  The  men  who  do  the  greatest  things  do  them  not 
so  much  by  prodigious  but  fitful  efforts,  as  by  steady, 
unremitting  toil, — by  turning  even  the  moments  to 
account.  They  have  the  genius  for  hard  work, — the 
most  desirable  kind  of  genius.  A  continual  dropping 
wears  the  stone.  A  little  done  this  hour  and  a  little 
the  next  hour,  day  by  day,  and  year  by  year,  brings 
much  to  pass.  Even  the  largest  houses  are  built  by 
laying  one  stone  upon  another. 

8.  Complain  not,  then,  of  your  want  of  leisure  to  do 
anything.  Rather  thank  God  that  you  are  not  cursed 
with  leisure;  for  a  curse  it  proves,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten.  What  if,  to  achieve  some  good  work  which  you 
have  deeply  at  heart,  you  can  never  command  an  entire 
month,  a  week,  or  even  a  day?  Shall  you  therefore 
stand  still,  and  fold  your  arms  in  despair?  No;  the 
thought  should  only  stimulate  and  urge  you  on  to  do 
what  you  can  do  in  this  swiftly  passing  Ufe  of  ours. 

9.  Try  what  you  can  build  up  from  the  broken  frag- 


148  FIFTH    READER. 

ments  of  yonr  time,  rendered  more  precious  by  their 
brevity.  It  is  said  that  in  the  Mint  the  sweepings  of 
the  floor  of  the  gold-working  room  are  melted  and 
coined.  Learn  from  this  the  nobler  economy  of  time: 
glean  up  its  golden  dustj  economize  with  the  utmost  care 
those  raspings  and  parings  of  existence,  those  leavings  of 
days  and  bits  of  hours, — so  valueless  singly,  so  inesti- 
mable in  the  aggregate, — which  most  persons  sweep  out 
into  the  waste  of  life,  and  you  will  be  rich  in  leisure. 
Rely  upon  it,  if  you  are  a  miser  of  moments,  if  you  hoard 
up  and  turn  to  account  odd  minutes  and  half-hours, 
you  will  at  last  be  wealthier  in  intellectual  acquisition, 
wealthier  in  good  deeds  harvested,  than  thousands  whose 
time  is  all  their  own. 

10.  The  biographer  of  George  Stephenson  tells  us  that 
the  smallest  fragments  of  his  time  were  regarded  by 
him  as  precious,  and  that  ^^he  was  never  so  happy  as 
when  improving  them."  For  years  Benjamin  FrankUn 
strove,  with  inflexible  resolution,  to  save  for  his  own 
instruction  every  minute  that  could  be  won.  Henry 
Kirke  White  learned  Greek  while  walking  to  and  from 
a  lawyer's  office.  Livingstone  taught  himself  Latin  gram- 
mar while  working  at  the  loom.  Hugh  Miller  found 
time  while  pursuing  his  trade  as  a  stone-mason,  not 
only  to  read,  but  to  write,  cultivating  his  style  till  he 
became  one  of  the  most  brilliant  authors  of  the  day. 

11.  The  small  stones  that  fill  up  the  crevices  are 
almost  as  essential  to  the  firm  wall  as  the  great  stones; 
and  so  the  wise  use  of  spare  time  contributes  not  a 
little  to  the  building  up  of  a  man's  mind  in  good  propor- 
tions, and  with  strength.  If  you  really  prize  mental 
culture,  or  are  sincerely  anxious  to  do  any  good  thing, 
you  will  find  time,  or  mahe  time  for  it,  sooner  or 
later,  however  engrossed  with  other  employments.  A 
failure  to  accomplish  it  can  only  prove  the  feebleness  of 
youi-  will,  not  that  you  lacked  time  for  its  execution. 


FIFTH    READER.  149 


69.     THANATOPSIS. 

Bead  this  poem  to  the  class,  calling  attention  to  the  rlietorical  pauses 
and  inflections,  and  questioning  pupils  about  the  rules  that  apply  to 
the  markings.  Then  let  the  class  read  the  poem  in  concert.  Next, 
require  pupils  to  read  singly;  and,  finally,  assign  a  part  of  the  poem 
to  he  memorized  for  recitation. 

To  him  I  who  |  in  the  love  |  of  Nature  |  holds  | 

Communion  |  with  her  visible  forms,  she  speaks  | 

A  various  language:   for  his  gayer  hours  | 

She  has  a  voice  of  gladness,  and  a  smile  | 

And  eloquence  of  heaitty;  and  she  glides  | 

Into  his  ddrJcer  musings  |  with  a  mild  | 

And  healing  sympathy  |  that  steals  away  | 

Their  sharpness  |  ere  he  is  aw^e.     When  thoughts  | 

Of  the  last  |  bitter  hour  |  come  like  a  blight  | 

Over  thy  spirit,  and  sad  images  | 

Of  the  stern  agony,  and  shroud,  and  pall. 

And  breathless  darkness,  and  the  narrow  house, 

Make  thee  to  shudder  |  and  grow  sick  at  heart, 

Go  forth  I  under  the  open  sky,  and  list  | 

To  Ndture^s  teachings,  while  from  all  around — 

Earth  |  and  her  waters,  and  the  depths  of  air — 

Comes  I  a  still  voice: — Yet  a  few  days,  and  thee  | 

The  all-beholding  sun  |  shall  see  no  more  | 

In  all  his  c6urse;  nor  yet  |  in  the  cold  ground, 

Where  thy  pale  form  |  is  laid,  with  many  tears, 

Nor  in  the  embrace  of  ocean,  shall  exist  | 

Thy  image.     Earth,  that  nourished  thee,  shall  claim 

Thy  growth,  to  be  resolved  |  to  earth  again  j 

And,  lost  each  Imman  trace,  surrendering  up  | 

Thine  individual  being,  shalt  thou  go  | 

To  mix  forever  |  with  the  elements. 

To  be  a  brother  |  to  the  insensible  rock  \ 

And  to  the  sluggish  clodj  which  the  rude  swain  | 


150  FIFTH    READER. 

Turns  with  his  share,  and  treads  upon.     The  oak  | 

Shall  send  his  roots  abroad,  and  pierce  thy  mold. 

Yet  not  to  thy  eternal  resting-place  | 

Shalt  thou  retire  alone,  nor  couldst  thou  wish  | 

Couch  I  more  magnificent.     Thou  shalt  lie  down  | 

With  patriarchs  |  of  the  infant  world, — with  Mngs^ 

The  ^powerful  of  the  earth, — the  tvise,  the  gbod. 

Fair  forms,  and  hoary  seers  of  ages  past, — 

All  in  one  |  mighty  sepulcher.     The  hills, 

Rock-ribbed,  and  ancient  as  the  siinj  the  vales  | 

Stretching  |  in  pensive  quietness  between  j 

The  venerable  woods;  rivers  that  move 

In  majesty,  and  the  complaining  brooks  | 

That  make  the  meadows  |  green;  and,  poured  round  all, 

Old  Ocean^s  \  gray  |  and  melancholy  waste,  | 

Are  but  the  solemn  decorations  |  all  \ 

Of  the  great  tomb  of  man.     The  golden  sun. 

The  planets,  all  the  infinite  host  of  heaven 

Are  shining  |  on  the  sad  abodes  of  death. 

Through  the  still  lapse  of  ages.     All  that  tread 

The  globe  |  are  but  a  Jidndful  \  to  the  tribes  ( 

That  slumber  |  in  its  hosom.     Take  the  wings 

Of  morning,  and  the  Barcan  desert  |  pierce, 

Or  lose  thyself  |  in  the  continuous  woods  | 

Where  rolls  the  Oregon,  and  hears  no  sound  | 

Save  his  own  dashings,— yet,  the  dead  \  are  there; 

And  millions  \  in  those  solitudes,  since  first  | 

The  flight  of  years  began,  have  laid  them  down  | 

In  their  last  sleep — the  dead  \  reign  there  |  aUne. 

So  shalt  thoil  rest;  and  what  if  thou  withdraw  | 

Unheeded  by  the  living,  and  no  friend  | 

Take  note  of  thy  departure !     All  that  breathe  | 

Win  share  thy  destiny.     The  gay  |  wiU  laugh  | 

When  thou  art  gone,  the  solemn  brood  of  care  | 

Plod  on,  and  each  one  |  as  before  |  will  chase  | 

His  favorite  phantom;  yet  all  these  |  shall  leave 


FIFTH    READER.  151 

Their  mirth  |  and  their  employments,  and  shall  come  | 

And  make  their  bed  |  with  thh.    As  the  long  train  | 

Of  ages  I  glides  away,  the  sons  of  men, — 

The  youth  |  in  life's  green  spring,  and  he  who  goes  | 

In  the  full  strength  of  years,  matron  and  maid, 

The  bowed  with  age,  the  infant  |  in  the  smiles  | 

And  beauty  |  of  its  innocent  age  cut  off, — 

Shall  one  by  one  |  be  gathered  to  thy  side, 

By  those  |  who,  in  their  turn,  shall  follow  them. 

So  live,  that  when  thy  summons  |  comes  |  to  join 

The  innumerable  caravan  |  that  moves 

To  that  mysterious  realm,  where  each  shall  take 

His  chamber  |  in  the  silent  halls  of  death. 

Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry-slave  at  night. 

Scourged  to  his  dungeon,  but,  sustained  and  soothed 

By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave  | 

Like  one  |  who  wraps  the  drapery  |  of  his  couch 

About  him,  and  lies  down  |  to  pleasant  dreams. 

WlLUAM   CULLEN   BrTANT. 


60.     RIENZI   TO   THE   ROMANS. 

Friends ! 
I  come  not  here  to  talk.     Ye  know  too  well 
The  story  of  our  thralldom.     We  are  slaves! 
The  bright  sun  rises  to  his  course,  and  lights 
A  race  of  slaves!     He  sets,  and  his  last  beam 
Falls  on  a  slave;   not  such  as,  swept  along 
By  the  full  tide  of  power,  the  conqueror  leads 
To  crimson  glory  and  undying  fame, — 
But  base,  ignoble  slaves!   slaves  to  a  horde 
Of  petty  tyrants,  feudal  despots;  lords. 
Rich  in  some  dozen  paltry  villages; 
Strong  in  some  hundred  spearmen;    only  great 
In  that  strange  spell, — a  name!     Each  hour,  dark  fraud, 


152  FIFTH    READER. 

Or  open  rapine,  or  protected  murder, 

Cries  out  against  them.     But  this  very  day, 

An  honest  man,  my  neighbor, — there  he  stands, — 

Was  struck, — struck  like  a  dog,  by  one  who  wore 

The  badge  of  Orsini!   because,  forsooth. 

He  tossed  not  high  his  ready  cap  in  air. 

Nor  lifted  up  his  voice  in  servile  shouts. 

At  sight  of  that  great  ruffian!     Be  we  men. 

And  suffer  such  dishonor? — men,  and  wash  not 

The  stain  away  in  blood? 

Such  shames  are  common. 
I  have  known  deeper  wrongs;   I,  that  speak  to  ye, 
I  had  a  brother  once, — a  gracious  boy. 
Full  of  all  gentleness,  of  calmest  hope, 
Of  sweet  and  quiet  joy:  there  was  the  look 
Of  heaven  upon  his  face,  which  limners  give 
To  the  beloved  disciple.     How  I  loved 
That  gracious  boy!     Younger  by  fifteen  years, 
Brother  at  once  and  son!     He  left  my  side, 
A  summer  bloom  on  his  fair  cheeks;   a  smile 
Parting  his  innocent  lips.     In  one  short  hour, 
That  pretty,  harmless  boy  was  slain!     I  saw 
The  corse,  the  mangled  corse,  and  then  I  cried 
For  vengeance!     Rouse,  ye  Romans!     Rouse,  ye  slaves! 
Have  ye  brave  sons?    Look  in  the  next  fierce  brawl 
To  see  them  die!     Have  ye  fair  daughters?    Look 
To  see  them  live,  torn  from  your  arms,  distained, 
Dishonored;  and,  if  ye  dare  call  for  justice. 
Be  answered  by  the  lash!    Yet  this  is  Rome, 
That  sat  on  her  seven  hills,  and  from  her  throne 
Of  beauty  ruled  the  world!     And  we  are  Romans! 
Why,  in  that  elder  day,  to  be  a  Roman 
Was  greater  than  a  king!     And  once  again, — 
Hear  me,  ye  walls  that  echoed  to  the  tread 
Of  either  Brutus! — once  again  I  swear. 
The  Eternal  City  shall  be  free !  mary  r.  mitfoed. 


FIFTH    READER.  153 


61.     LONDON. 


1.  London  is  the  largest  city  in  the  world.  That  is 
to  say,  it  contains  more  people  than  any  other  city. 
Just  as  we  estimate  the  importance  of  a  river — not  by 
its  length  nor  by  its  breadth,  but  by  the  amount  of 
water  it  contributes  to  the  ocean — so  we  estimate  the 
size  of  a  city  by  the  number  of  people  it  contains. 
Paris  builds  its  houses  higher  into  the  air  than  London  j 
but  London  stretches  over  a  very  much  larger  extent  of 
ground.  London  has  nearly  four  millions  of  inhabitants; 
Paris  has  only  two  millions. 

2.  London  is  the  capital  of  England;  but  it  is  indeed 
also  the  capital  of  the  world — that  is,  of  the  world  of 
commerce.  It  has  comniercial  connections  with  every 
country  and  with  every  important  town  on  the  face  of 
the  globe.  It  sends  out  sailing-ships  and  steamers  to 
all  the  countries  of  the  world;  and  from  its  center, 
railway  lines  and  telegraph  wires  radiate  in  every  direc- 
tion. 

3.  London  was  a  flourishing  Uttle  British  town  before 
the  Romans  conquered  it  iii  the  year  55  B.  c.  It 
continued  to  grow  from  that  time  till  the  present,  with 
hardly  a  check  to  its  prosperity.  It  is,  in  truth,  the 
river  Thames  that  laid  the  foundation  of  the  fortune 
of  London.  For  the  Thames  is  not  merely  one  river;  it 
is  two  rivers.  The  tide  flows  gently  up  twice  in  every 
twenty-four  hours;  and  thus  barges  and  vessels  of  bur- 
den are  carried  up  to  London  by  the  tide,  and  are  borne 
away  from  London  by  the  power  of  its  own  stream. 
Thus  this  river  provides  a  large  quantity  of  carrying 
power  for  nothing,  and  the  barges  laden  with  goods 
need  only  guidance. 

4.  The  streets  of  London  are  the  most  crowded  streets 
in  the  world.     Thousands   and  hundreds  of  thousands 


154  FIFTH    READER. 

of  persons  stream  along  its  main  arteries  from  morn- 
ing till  night;  in  the  morning  generally  from  west  to 
east;  in  the  evening  with  their  faces  to  the  west.  The 
roadways  are  crowded  with  carriages,  cabs,  and  omni- 
buses; and  in  many  parts  it  is  difficult,  if  not  dangerous, 
to  cross  the  streets.  Within  the  town  there  are  thou- 
sands of  cabs,  omnibuses,  and  tram-cars,  and  every  other 
kind  of  conveyance;  but  without,  through  the  suburbs, 
round  the  whole  of  the  vast  province  covered  with 
houses  and  buildings,  and  also  underground,  there  are 
countless  railways  running  in  every  direction.  Steamers, 
too,  run  up  and  down  the  river  at  all  hours  and  minutes 
of  the  day. 

5.  But,  not  only  is  its  own  population  the  vastest  in 
the  world;  a  large  population  is  poured  into  it  every 
morning  by  railway  and  by  steamer  from  all  parts  of 
England  and  from  every  continent  and  country  on  the 
globe.  It  is  reckoned  that  a  population  of  more  than 
two  hundred  thousand  (not  counting  those  who  live  in 
the  suburbs  and  come  in  for  business)  enter  London 
every  morning;  and  that  the  same  number  of  people 
leave  it  every  evening.  But  a  population  of  two  hundred 
thousand  is  a  population  nearly  as  large  as  that  of 
Edinburgh  or  Bristol,  and  larger  than  that  of  Newcastle- 
upon-Tyne.  It  is  then  as  if  a  city  nearly  as  large  as 
Edinburgh  or  Bristol  were  left  empty  and  deserted  all 
night,  and  were  visited  and  crowded  aU  day  by  its 
thronging  population. 

6.  And  the  population  of  London  contains  contribu- 
tions from  aL.  the  races  and  nationaUties  of  the  world. 
There  are  Chinese,  Hindoos,  Persians,  and  Armenians 
from  Asia;  there  are  Peruvians  and  Chilians  from  the 
west  of  South  America;  there  are  Americans  from  San 
Francisco  and  the  other  cities  of  the  Pacific  slope;  and 
there  are,  from  every  large  town  on  the  continent  of 
Eui'ope,  Russians,  Poles,  Hungarians,  Germans,  Swedes, 


FIFTH    READER.  155 

Norwegians,  Finns,  Frenchmen,  Spaniards,  and  Portu- 
guese. There  are  in  London  more  Scotsmen  than  in 
Edinburgh;  more  Irish  than  in  Belfast;  more  Welshmen 
than  in  Cardiff;  more  Jews  than  in  Jerusalem;  more 
Greeks  than  in  Athens;  and  more  G-ermans  than  in 
Frankfort.  London  draws  to  itself  people  of  all  tongues, 
races,  and  nationalities.  It  has  paupers  enough  to  fill 
all  the  houses  in  Brighton. 

7.  London  is  a  wilderness  of  brick — with  hundreds  of 
miles  of  hideous  streets,  composed  of  insignificant  and 
unsightly  buildings;  but  it  also  contains  some  of  the 
noblest  edifices  in  the  world.  On  a  gently  rising  ground 
in  the  heart  of  the  city  rises  St.  Paul's,  one  of  the 
largest  churches  in  the  world,  and  a  masterpiece  of 
"Wren,  one  of  the  greatest  architects.  Westward  on  the 
banks  of  the  Thames,  the  towers  of  Westminster  Abbey 
stand,  guarding  the  ashes  of  England's  greatest  men — 
men  who  have  made  her  name  famous  by  sea  and  land, 
in  art,  in  science,  and  in  letters. 

8.  Every  large  and  crowded  city  abounds  in  contrasts 
of  various  kinds;  but  London  is  emphatically  the  city 
of  contrasts.  Trees  and  brick;  portions  of  the  country 
clasped  within  the  town,  parts  of  the  town  running  out 
into  the  countiy;  wide  streets,  open  parks,  and  the 
narrowest  and  foulest  lanes;  palaces  and  hovels;  splen- 
dor and  squalor;  rich  and  poor;  virtuous  and  criminal; 
learned  and  ignorant;  thoughtful  consideration  and  the 
most  wicked  recklessness;  hideousness  and  beauty — all 
these  contrasts  may  be  perceived  by  the  open-eyed 
spectator  within   the   compass  of   a  few  minutes'  walk. 


15 

WKITTKN 

SPELLING.-WORDS     OFTEN 

MISSPELLED. 

confine 

ancient              raillery 

granary 

condign 

transient           arraign 

canker 

complain 

coUeague           arrear 

rancor 

156  FIFTH    READER. 


62.      BERNARDO    DEL    CARPIO. 

1. 

The   warrior   bowed   his    crested   head,   and    tamed   his 

heart  of  fire, 
And  sued  the  haughty  king  to  free  his  long-imprisoned 

sire  5 
"I  bring  thee  here  my  fortress-keys,  I  bring  my  captive 

train, 
I  pledge  thee  faith,  my  liege,  my  lord! — Oh!   hreah  my 

father's  chain !'' 

2. 

"Rise,   rise!    even   now   thy   father   comes,   a   ransomed 

man  this  day: 
Mount  thy  good  horse;  and  thou  and  I  will  meet  him 

on  his  way." 
Then  lightly  rose  that  loyal  son,  and  bounded  on  his 

steed, 
And    urged,    as    if    with    lance    in    rest,    the    charger's 

foamy  speed. 

3. 
And  lo !    from  far,  as   on  they  pressed,  there   came   a 

glittering  band. 
With  one  that  'midst  them  stately  rode,  as  a  leader  in 

the  land: 
"Now,  haste,  Bernardo,  haste!   for  there  in  very  truth, 

is  he, 
The  father  whom  thy  faithful   heart   hath   yearned   so 

long  to  see." 

4. 
His  dark  eye  flashed,  his  proud  breast  heaved,  his  cheek's 

hue  came  and  went: 
He  reached  that  gray-haired  chieftain's  side,  and  there, 

dismounting,  bentj 


FIFTH    READER.  157 

A  lowly  knee   to   earth  he  bent,  his  father's   hand  he 

took — 
What  was  there  in  its  touch  that  all  his  fiery  spirit 

shook? 

5. 

That  hand  was  cold,  a  frozen  thing, — it  dropped  from 

his  like  lead! 
He  looked  up  to  the  face  above, — the  face  was  of  the 

dead! 
A  plume  waved  o'er  the   noble   brow, — the   brow  was 

fixed  and  white: 
He  met,  at  last,  his  father's  eyes, — but  in  them  was  no 

sight ! 

6. 

Up  from  the   ground  he   sprang  and  gazed; — but  who 

could  paint  that  gaze? 
They  hushed  theii*  very  hearts,  that  saw  its  horror  and 

am^e : — 
They  might   have    chdined   him,   as   before    that   stony 

form  he  stood; 
For  the  power  was  stricken  from  his  arm,  and  from 

his  lip  the  blood. 

7. 

^'Father!''  at  length  he  murmured  low,  and  wept  like 
childhood  then: 

Talk  not  of  grief  till  thou  hast  seen  the  tears  of  war- 
like m^n! 

He  thought  on  all  his  glorious  hopes,  and  all  his  young 
renown, — 

He  flung  his  fdlchion  from  his  side,  and  in  the  dust 
sat  down: 

8. 
Then   covering  with  his   steel-gloved  hands   his   darkly 
mournful  br6w: 


158  FIFTH    READER. 

"No   more,   there   is   no   more/'   he    said,    "to   lift   the 

sword  for,  now; 
My  king  is  false — my  hope  betrayed!     My  father — Oh! 

the  worth, 
The   glory,   and  the  loveliness,   are  passed   away  from 

earth. 


"I   thought   to    stand   where    banners   waved,   my   sire, 

beside  thee,  yet! 
I  would  that  there  our  kindred   blood   on    Spain's  free 

soil  had  met! 
Thou   wouldst   have    known   my   spirit,    then; — for    thee 

my  fields  were  won; 
And  thou  hast  perished  in  thy  chains,  as  though  thou 

hadst  no  son!" 

10. 

Then,  starting  from   the   ground   once   more,  he   seized 

the  monarch's  rein, 
Amidst  the  pale  and  wildered  looks  of  all  the  courtier 

train ; 
And,   with    a    fierce,   o'ermastering    grasp,    the    rearing 

war-horse  led. 
And  sternly  set  them  face  to  face — the  king  before  the 

dead  : 

11. 
"Came  I  not  forth,  upon  thy  pledge,  my  father's  hand 

to  kiss? 
Be   still,  and   gaze   thou   on,  false   king!    and   teU   me, 

what  is  this? 
The  voice,  the  glance,  the  heart  1  sought, — give  answer, 

where  are  thei/ f 
If  thou  wouldst  clear  thy  perjured  soul,  send  Vife  through 

this  cold  clay! 


FIFTH    READER.  159 

12. 

"Into  these  glassy  eyes  put  light; — ^be  still!  keep  down 

thine  ire! — 
Bid  these  white  lips  a  Messing  speak, — this  edrth  is  not 

my  sire: 
Give  me  back  him  for  whom  I  strove,  for  whom  my 

blood  was  shed! — 
Thou  canst  not?   and  a  king! — his  dust  be   mountains 

on  thy  head!'' 

13. 
He  loosed  the   st^ed, — his   slack  hand   f^ll; — upon   the 

silent  face 
He  cast  one  long,  deep,  troubled  look,  then  turned  from 

that  sad  place: 
His  hope   was  crushed,  his  after  fate  untold  in  martial 

strain ; — 
His  banner  led  the  spears  no  more,  amidst  the  hills  of 

Spain.  mk8.  hemans. 


63.     GLACIERS. 

1.  All  the  parts  of  a  mountain  which  lie  above  the 
line  of  perpetual  snow  are,  of  course,  covered  every 
winter  with  fresh  falls.  As  the  snow  does  not  melt 
above  this  line,  it  is  clear  that  the  thickness  of  snow 
ought  to  become  greater  and  greater  every  succeeding 
year.  The  mountain,  therefore,  should  always  be  getting 
higher  and  higher. 

2.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  the  snow  does  not 
go  on  accumulating  in  this  way  above  the  line  of  per- 
petual snow,  and  consequently  the  mountain  does  not 
grow  any  higher.  What,  then,  becomes  of  the  snow 
which  falls  every  winter,  if  it  does  not  melt! 

3.  If  the  top  of  the  mountain  were  a  flat,  level  plain, 


160  FIFTH    READER. 

it  is  quite  clear  that  the  snow  would  become  deeper 
and  deeper  every  year,  and  so  the  mountain  get  higher 
and  higher.  But  no  mountain  has  a  flat  level  top  like 
this.  The  top  of  a  mountain  is  always  very  uneven, 
and  always  slopes  away  into  the  valleys,  which,  in 
turn,  lead  into  the  low  country  below. 

4.  The  snow  which  falls  on  the  top  of  the  mountain 
is  thus  unable  to  rest  in  the  place  where  it  feU.  It  is 
constantly  slipping  off  the  slanting  sides  of  the  moun- 
tain into  the  heads  of  the  valleys,  which  in  this  way 
get  choked  with  snow. 

5.  When  a  great  thickness  of  snow  is  gathered 
together  in  the  higher  valleys,  the  lower  layers  of  it 
are  pressed  upon  by  the  upper  layers,  as  well  as  by 
the  fresh  snow  which  is  always  pushing  itself  down 
from  the  mountain-top.  Now,  every  school-boy  knows 
that  if  snow  is  squeezed  in  the  hands  it  becomes  quite 
hard;  and  if  you  were  to  squeeze  it  hard  enough  you 
can  really  turn  snow  into  ice. 

6.  Our  hands  are  not  strong  enough  to  do  this,  but 
it  can  easily  be  done  by  putting  snow  into  a  machine, 
where  it  can  be  powerfully  pressed  together.  What  hap- 
pens then,  is  this:  The  snow,  pressing  down  from  the 
lofty  summit  of  the  mountain,  chokes  the  higher  parts 
of  the  valleys,  and  by  its  own  weight  it  becomes  so 
squeezed  together,  that  it  ceases  to  be  snow,  and  becomes 
clear,  blue,  solid  ice. 

7.  If  we  were  to  go  to  any  great  range  of  moun- 
tains, like  the  Alps,  in  Switzerjand,  we  should  see  this 
at  once.  We  should  see  that  the  tops  of  the  higher 
mountains  are  covered  with  great  fields  of  eternal  snow, 
and  the  valleys  leading  away  from  these  are  occupied 
by  vast  masses  of  solid  ice.  These  rivers  of  ice  are 
called  "  glaciers,"  from  the  French  word  glace,  which 
means  ice,  and  they  are  realhj  "rivers  of  ice,"  because 
they  are  always  moving  slowly  down  their  valleys. 


FIFTH    READER.  161 

8.  In  fact,  the  only  difference  between  one  of  these 
ice-streams  and  an  ordinary  river  is,  that  the  former 
moves  very  slowly.  It  is  only  by  watching  a  glacier, 
and  by  measuring  its  progress  with  proper  instruments, 
that  its  movement  can  be  found  out.  It  moves  only  a 
few  inches  every  day,  and  you  would  not  think  it  was 
moving  at  all,  if  you  simply  looked  at  it. 

9.  Still,  these  great  ice-streams,  sometimes  ten  or 
twenty  miles  long,  and  hundreds  of  feet  in  thickness, 
are  always  moving  slowly  downwards,  and  hence  they 
carry  off,  year  by  year,  the  snow  which  falls  upon  the 
mountain  above  the  line  of  perpetual  snow.  Slowly  but 
surely  they  push  themselves  down  the  sides  of  the 
mountain,  till  they  get  into  the  lower  country,  and  then 
they  are  no  longer  able  to  resist  the  heat  of  the  sun 
and  the  warmth  of  the  air. 

10.  They  now  melt,  and  from  the  end  of  each  of  them 
proceeds  a  larger  or  smaller  stream  of  water,  icy-cold, 
and  thick  with  the  mud  formed  by  the  ice,  as  it  grinds 
its  way  down  the  rocky  valley  which  imprisons  it.  Some 
of  the  most  famous  rivers  in  the  world,  such  as  the 
Rhine,  and  the  Granges,  begin  as  streams  which  issue 
from  icy  caverns  at  the  end  of  great  glaciers,  high 
amongst  the  frozen  mountains. 

11.  In  California,  high  up  on  the  summits  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada  mountains,  there  are  many  small  glaciers, 
— the  dying  heads  of  great  glaciers  that,  centuries  ago, 
stretched  in  long  Unes  down  to  the  valleys  below. 
John  Muir  has  visited  and  located  more  than  fifty  of 
them,  in  the  peaks  of  the  Sierra  Nevada.  The  largest 
of  these  are  on  Mount  Shasta,  and  are  two  or  three 
miles  long.  Most  of  them,  however,  are  not  more  than 
half  a  mile  in  length.  The  Yosemite  Valley  lies  in  the 
track  of  a  great  glacier  that  moved  down  from  Mount 
LyeU  and  surrounding  peaks,  into  the  Valley  of  the 
San  Joaquin. 


162  FIFTH    READER. 

12.  Alaska  contains  thousands  of  magnificent  glaciers 
that  move  down  to  the  Pacific  Coast  from  the  lofty 
mountain  range  skirting  the  Pacific.  Some  of  these 
glaciers  are  more  than  fifty  miles  long,  and  are  the 
grandest  in  the  world.  Greenland  is  covered  to  a  great 
depth  by  a  vast  ice-sheet  that  sends  forth  to  the  coast 
many  great  glaciers,  which  supply  the  icebergs  that  float 
southward  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

13.  Dr.  Kane  describes  the  Great  Glacier  of  Humboldt 
on  the  coast  of  Greenland,  as  follows: 

"This  line  of  cliff  rose,  a  soUd  glassy  wall,  three 
hundred  feet  above  the  water-level,  with  an  unknown, 
unfathomable  depth  below  itj  and  its  curved  face,  sixty 
miles  in  length,  from  Cape  Agassiz  to  Cape  Forbes, 
vanished  into  unknown  space,  at  not  more  than  a  single 
day's  railroad  travel  from  the  Pole.  The  interior,  with 
which  it  communicated,  and  from  which  it  issued,  was 
an  unsurveyed  mer  de  glace  [sea  of  ice]  to  the  eye,  of 
boundless  dimensions. 

14.  "Yet  here  were  no  water  feeders  from  the  south. 
Every  particle  of  moisture  had  its  origin  within  the 
Polar  circle,  and  had  been  converted  into  ice.  Here 
was  a  plastic,  moving,  semi-sohd  mass,  obliterating  life, 
swallowing  rocks  and  islands,  and  plowing  its  irresist- 
ible march  through  the  crust  of  an  investing  sea.'' 


64.    THE   G-LOVE   AND   THE   LIONS. 

King  Francis  was  a  hearty  king,  and  loved  a  royal  sport, 
And  one  day  as  his  lions  fought,  sat  looking  on  the  court  j 
The  nobles  filled  the  benches,  with  the  ladies  in  their 

pride, 
And  'mongst  them  sat  the  Count  de  Lorge,  with  one  for 

whom  he  sighed; 


FIFTH    READER.  163 

And  truly 't  was  a  gaUant  thing  to  see  that  crowning  show, 
Valor  and  love,  and  a  king  above,  and  the  royal  beasts 
below. 

Ramped  and  roared  the  lions,  with  horrid  laughing  jawsj 
They  bit,  they  glared,  gave  'blows  like  beams,  a  wind 

went  with  their  paws; 
With  wallowing  might  and  stifled  roar,  they  rolled  on 

one  another, 
Till  all  the  pit  with  sand  and  mane  was  in  a  thunderous 

smother ; 
The  bloody  foam  above  the  bars  came  whisking  through 

the  air; 
Said  Francis,  then,  "  Faith,  gentlemen,  we  're  better  here 

than  there." 

De  Lorge's  love  o'erheard  the  king,  a  beauteous,  lively 

dame, 
With  smiling  lips,  and  sharp  bright  eyes,  which  alway 

seemed  the  same; 
She  thought,  "The  Count,  my  lover,  is  brave  as  brave 

can  be; 
He  surely  would  do  wondi'ous  things  to  show  his  love 

of  me; 
Eang,  ladies,  lovers,  all  look  on;  the  occasion  is  divine; 
I'll  drop  my  glove,  to  prove  his  love;   great  glory  will 

be  mine." 

She  dropped  her  glove,  to  prove  his  love;  then  looked 
at  him  and  smiled; 

He  bowed,  and  in  a  moment  leaped  among  the  lions 
wild; 

The  leap  was  quick;  return  was  quick;  he  has  re- 
gained his  place; 

Then  threw  the  glove,  but  not  with  love,  right  in  the 
lady's  face. 


164  FIFTH    READER. 

^'  By   Heaven  !  "   said   Francis,  ^^  rightly  done  ! "   and   he 

rose  from  where  he  sat: 
"No  love,"  quoth  he,  "but  vanity,  sets  love  a  task  like 

that." 

Leigh  Hunt, 


65.     THE   CLANSMAN'S   REVENGE. 

[A  Scottish  chief  once  ordered  one  of  his  followers  to  be  flogged  for  some  offense 
against  discipline.  This  poem  describes  how  the  clansman  revenged  what  he  con- 
sidered an  insufferable  disgrace.] 

1.  "Maclaine!   youVe  scourged  me  like  a  hound; 
You  should  have  struck  me  to  the  ground; 
You  should  have  played  a  chieftain's  part; 
You  should  have  stabbed  me  to  the  heart. 

2.  "You  should  have  crushed  me  unto  death; — 
But  here  I  swear  with  living  breath. 

That  for  this  wrong  which  you  have  done, 
I'll  wreak  my  vengeance  on  your  son, — 

3.  "On  him,  and  you,  and  all  your  race!" 
He  said,  and  bounding  from  his  place. 
He  seized  the  child  with  sudden  hold, — 
A  smiling  infant,  three  years  old, — 

4.  And  starting  like  a  hunted  stag, 

He  scaled  the  rock,  he  clomb  the  crag. 
And  reached,  o'er  many  a  wide  abyss. 
The  beetling  seaward  precipice; 

5.  And  leaning  o'er  its  topmost  ledge. 
He  held  the  infant  o'er  the  edge: — 
"In  vain  thy  wrath,  thy  sorrow  vain; 
No  hand  shall  save  it,  proud  Maclaine!" 


FIFTH    READER.  165 

6.  With  flashing  eye  and  burning  brow^ 
The  mother  followed,  heedless  how, 
O'er  crags  with  mosses  overgrown. 
And  stair-like  juts  of  shppery  stone. 

7.  But  midway  up  the  rugged  steep, 

She  found  a  chasm  she  could  not  leap, 
And  kneeUng  on  its  brink,  she  raised 
Her  supplicating  hands,  and  gazed. 

8.  "O,  spare  my  child,  my  joy,  my  pride! 
O,  give  me  back  my  child!"  she  cried: 
"My  child!  my  child!"  with  sobs  and  tears. 
She  shrieked  upon  his  callous  ears. 

9.  "Come,  Evan,"  said  the  trembling  chief, — 
His  bosom  wrung  with  pride  and  grief, — 
"Restore  the  boy,  give  hack  my  son. 
And  I  '11  forgive  the  wrong  you  've  done." 

10.  "I  scorn  forgiveness,  haughty  man! 
You've  injured  me  before  the  clan; 
And  naught  but  blood  shall  wipe  away 
The  shame  I  have  endured  to-day." 

11.  And  as  he  spoke,  he  raised  the  child. 
To  dash  it  'mid  the  breakers  wild. 
But,  at  the  mother's  piercing  cry. 
Drew  back  a  step,  and  made  reply: — 

12.  "Fair  lady,  if  your  lord  will  strip, 
And  let  a  clansman  wield  the  whip, 
Till  skin  shall  flay,  and  blood  shall  run, 
I'U  give  you  back  your  little  son." 

13.  The  lady's  cheek  grew  pale  with  ire, 
The  chieftain's  eyes  flashed  sudden  .fire; 


166  FIFTH    READER. 

He  drew  a  pistol  from  his  breast, 

Took  aim, — then  dropped  it,  sore  distressed. 

14.  "I  might  have  slain  my  babe  instead. 
Come,  Evan,  come,'^  the  father  said, 
And  through  his  heart  a  tremor  ranj 
"We'll  fight  our  quarrel  man  to  man." 

15.  "  Wrong  unavenged  I  've  never  borne," 
Said  Evan,  speaking  loud  in  scorn  ^ 
"You've  heard  my  answer,  proud  Maclaine: 
I  will  not  fight  you, — think  again." 

16.  The  lady  stood  in  mute  despair. 

With  freezing  blood  and  stiffening  hair; 
She  moved  no  hmb,  she  spoke  no  word; — 
She  could  but  look  upon  her  lord. 

17.  He  saw  the  quivering  of  her  eye. 
Pale  lips  and  speechless  agony, — 
And,  doing  battle  with  his  pride, 
"Give  back  the  boy, — I  yield,"  he  cried. 

18.  A  storm  of  passions  shook  his  mind — 
Anger,  and  shame,  and  love  combined; 
But  love  prevailed,  and  bending  low, 
He  bared  his  shoulders  to  the  blow. 

19.  "I  smite  you,"  said  the  clansman  true; 
"Forgive  me,  chief,  the  deed  I  do! 

For  by  yon  Heaven,  that  hears  me  speak. 
My  dirk  in  Evan's  heart  shallreek!" 

20.  But  Evan's  face  beamed  hate  and  joy; 
Close  to  his  breast  he  hugged  the  boy: 
"Revenge  is  just,  revenge  is  sweet. 
And  mine,  Lochbuy,  shall  be  complete." 


FIFTH    READER.  167 

21.  Ere  hand  could  stir,  with  sudden  shock, 
He  threw  the  infant  o'er  the  rock, 
Then  followed  with  a  desperate  leap, 
Down  fifty  fathoms  to  the  deep. 

22.  They  found  their  bodies  in  the  tide; 
And  never  till  the  day  she  died 

Was  that  sad  mother  known  to  smile — 
The  Niobe  of  MuHa's  isle. 

23.  They  dragged  false  Evan  from  the  sea, 
And  hanged  him  on  a  gallows-tree  j 
And  ravens  fattened  on  his  brain, 

To  sate  the  vengeance  of  Maclaine. 

Mackay, 

Composition.    Make  a  short  prose  story  out  of  this  poem,  and  give 
your  thoughts  about  the  incidents  related  in  it. 


66.     SCHOOL-MASTER   JACOB'S    SCRAP- 
BOOKS. 

1.  A  well-known  professional  gentleman  made  to  me, 
a  short  time  ago,  the  following  statement:  I  have  been 
to  visit  the  school-master  who  put  me  through  the  com- 
mon Enghsh  branches  and  the  rudiments  of  Latin. 

2.  He  was  a  genius  in  his  way,  very  successful  as  a 
teacher,  and  peculiarly  gifted  in  inciting  the  farmers'  boys 
in  the  remote  region  where  he  established  his  school,  to 
right  thinking  and  right  living.  He  had  peculiar  methods 
of  conveying  instruction,  as  well  as  a  peculiar  system 
of  reward  and  punishment.  He  made  very  few  rules, 
and  in  case  one  was  broken  in  spirit  or  in  letter,  the 
delinquent  was  set  up  on  a  high  stool  behind  a  small, 
long-legged  desk,  facing  the  school,  and  made  to  read, 
for  a  longer  or  shorter  time,  as  the  case  might  be,  from 
the  bad  boy's  scrap-book. 


168  FIFTH    READER. 

3.  This  was  a  thick,  heavy,  leather-covered  account- 
book,  in  which  had  been  pasted  clippings  from  news- 
papers for  the  last  twenty  years,  relating  to  the  misad- 
ventures of  boys; — not  stories,  usually,  but  items  of  news. 
There  were  all  sorts  of  boys  represented  here;  the  boy 
who  was  drowned  while  bathing,  or  fishing,  or  gather- 
ing pond-lilies,  against  the  will  of  his  parents,  or  came 
to  grief  prowling  around  with  his  gun  when  they  sup- 
posed him  to  be  at  school. 

4.  The  boy  who  broke  his  leg  while  stealing  his 
neighbor's  cherries;  the  one  who  broke  his  back  by 
falling  from  a  hickory- tree  that  he  was  plundering;  the 
boy  who  was  content  to  remain  at  the  foot  of  the  class — 
all  these  were  shown  up,  together  with  those  who  read 
bad  books  on  the  sly,  and  those  who  ran  away  from 
home.  In  fact,  there  was  something  to  suit  nearly  every 
case  of  a  boy  whose  head  was  so  filled  with  mischief 
that  he  could  not  conform  to  the  simple  rules  of  Master 
Jacob's  school. 

5.  These  were  real  happenings, — there  was  no  nonsense 
about  them;  the  idle  boy,  the  lazy  boy,  the  mischievous 
boy,  the  wicked  boy,  the  cruel  boy,  the  profane  boy, 
all  came  to  the  same  inevitable  bad  end.  An  hour's 
reading  of  these  newspaper  paragraphs  made  a  boy's 
heart  sink  within  him,  and  caused  a  resolve  to  shoot 
up  in  it  that  would  turn  him  right  about  and  classify 
him  in  future  with  quite  a  different  order  of  boys.  On 
the  last  page  of  this  scrap-book,  written  in  a  fair,  bold 
hand,  were  the  startling  words :  '^  How  long  before  some 
item  of  your  downward  career  shall  go  to  help  fill  the 
pages  of  this  book?" 

6.  The  other  scrap-book  was  a  gem  in  every  way. 
It  was  a  new,  large,  elegantly  bound  blank-book,  in  which, 
daintily  pasted,  were  short  lives  of  good  men,  chronicles 
of  noble  deeds,  of  beneficent  acts,  of  all  the  sweet  and 
kindly  things  that  go  to  make  this  life  beautiful,  and 


FIFTH    READER.  169 

to  prepare  for  the  enjoyment  of  a  heaven  to  come. 
The  book  was  rendered  still  more  attractive  by  the  in- 
sertion, at  short  intervals,  of  beautiful  engravings  and 
many  lovely  sketches  in  water-colors. 

7.  This  book  was  used  as  a  reward  of  merit.  When 
you  saw  a  lad  with  that  book  on  the  desk  before  him, 
you  might  be  sure,  without  asking,  that  he  had  deserved 
the  master's  approval  in  some  way.  Such  was  the  salutary 
effect  of  these  two  books  that  there  was  seldom  a  time 
that  the  good  boy's  book  was  not  somewhere  in  demand 
among  the  twenty  boys,  while  the  bad  boy's  book  was 
left  upon  its  high  desk  for  the  dust  to  accumulate  upon. 

8.  "I  have  been  counted  a  successful  teacher,"  my 
old  master  said  to  me  on  the  occasion  of  my  recent  visit; 
"my  boys  always  improved  morally  and  spiritually,  as 
well  as  mentally,  under  my  charge;  my  boys  have  been 
heard  from  in  the  world  always  as  men  of  integrity  who 
have  tried  to  find  the  best  and  truest  in  life.  Oh!  I 
must  not  forget  to  show  you  my  good  boy's  scrap-book. 
I  am  constantly  making  additions  to  it;"  and  he  brought 
forward  the  worn  but  familiar  book,  saying,  as  he 
pointed  to  many  items  penciled  with  their  dates  at- 
tached, on  the  margin:  "Look  there,  and  there,  and 
there.  That  tells  when  they  were  with  me.  Good  boys, 
they  were,  all  good  boys." 

9.  "And  the  other  book,"  I  asked;  "how  many  have 
helped  to  fiU  that?" 

"Not  one,  my  boy;  I  speak  with  truth,  not  one," 
said  the  old  man,  with  tears  in  his  eyes  now.  "It  is 
singular,  but  it  goes  to  prove  my  theory,  that  if  you 
can  impress  the  consequences  of  wrong-doing  upon  a 
child,  he  is  almost  sure  to  prefer  the  right  to  the  wrong. 
Then  when  emulation  stirs  the  breast,  a  boy  is  bound 
to  succeed,  for  competition  and  emulation  have  honor 
for  their  basis,  and  that  was  the  spirit  that  the  good 
boy's  book  was  intended  to  inspire."       mbs.  annie  a.  peeston. 


170  FIFTH    READER. 


67.     WHAT    CONSTITUTES    A    STATE. 

Bequire  pupils  to  memorize  this  for  recitation. 

1.  What  constitutes  a  state? 

Not  high-raised  battlements  or  labored  mound, 

Thick  wall  or  moated  gate; 
Not  cities  proud,  with  spires  and  turrets  crowned; 

2.  Not  bays  and  broad-arm  ports, 

Where,  laughing  at  the  storm,  rich  navies  ride; 

Not  starred  and  spangled  courts, 
Where  low-browed  baseness  wafts  perfume  to  pride. 

3.  No: — men — high-minded  men — 

With  powers  as  far  above  dull  brutes  endued, 

In  forest,  brake,  or  den. 
As  beasts  excel  cold  rocks  and  brambles  rude; 

4.  Men,  who  their  duties  know, 

But  know  their  rights,  and,  knowing,  dare  maintain. 

Prevent  the  long-aimed  blow. 
And  crush  the  tjrrant  while  they  rend  the  chain: 

5.  These  constitute  a  state; 

And  sovereign  law,  that  state's  collected  will, 

O'er  thrones  and  globes  elate, 
Sits  empress,  crowning  good,  repressing  ill. 

Sir  William  Jones. 


68.     THE  VOICES   OF   THE   DEAD. 

Bequire  the  boys  of  the  class  to  memorize  this  extract  for  declama- 
tion. 

1.  The  world  |  is  filled  |  with  the  voices  of  the  dead. 
They  speak  |  not  from  the  public  records  of  the  great 
world  only,  but  from  the  private  history  |  of  our  own 


FIFTH    READER.  171 

experience.  They  speak  to  us  |  in  a  thousand  remem- 
brances, in  a  thousand  incidents,  events,  and  associations. 
They  speak  to  us,  not  only  from  their  silent  graves,  but 
from  the  throng  of  life.  Though  they  are  invisible,  yet 
life  I  is  filled  \  with  their  presence.  They  are  with  us 
by  the  silent  fireside  |  and  in  the  secluded  chamber. 
They  are  mth  us  |  in  the  paths  of  sodettj,  and  in  the 
crowded  assemblies  of  7nen. 

2.  They  speak  to  us  |  from  the  lonely  wciy-side;  and 
they  speak  to  us  |  from  the  venerable  waMs  \  that  echo 
to  the  steps  of  a  multitude  |  and  to  the  voice  of  prayer. 
Go  where  we  will,  the  dead  \  are  with  us.  We  livej  we 
converse  with  those  \  who  once  lived  |  and  conversed  | 
with  us.  Their  well-remembered  tone  |  mingles  with  the 
whispering  breeze,  with  the  sound  of  the  falling  leaf, 
with  the  jubilee  shout  |  of  the  spring-time. — The  earth 
I  is  filled  I  with  their  shadowy  train. 

3.  But  there  are  more  substantial  expressions  |  of  the 
presence  of  the  dead  |  with  the  living.  The  earth  |  is 
filled  with  the  Idbors,  the  works,  of  the  d^ad.  Almost 
all  the  literature  in  the  world,  the  discoveries  of  science, 
the  glories  of  art,  the  ever-enduring  temples,  the  dwell- 
ing-places of  generations,  the  comforts  and  improvements 
of  life,  the  languages,  the  maxims,  the  opinions  of  the 
living,  the  very  frame-work  of  society,  the  institutions 
of  nations,  the  fabrics  of  empires, — oM  \  are  the  works 
of  the  dead} — ^by  these,  they  |  who  are  dead  |  yet  speak. 


Orville  Dewey. 


16 


WBITTEN   SPEIXING.— TVORDS    OFTEN   MISSPIXUEID. 

diphthong  pontiff  crochet  judgment 

epitaph  sulphur  croquet  lodgment 

sheriff  phosphorus  charade  numskull 

caliph  diphtheria  chalice  welfare 


172  FIFTH   READER. 


69.     COMPLETION   OF   THE    BUNKER   HILL 
MONUMENT. 

1.  We  consecrate  our  work  to  the  spirit  of  national 
independence,  and  we  wish  that  the  light  of  peace  may 
rest  npon  it  forever.  We  rear  a  memorial  of  onr  con- 
viction of  that  unmeasured  benefit  which  has  been  con- 
ferred on  our  own  land,  and  of  the  happy  influences 
which  hsiive  been  produced,  by  the  same  events,  on  the 
general  interests  of  mankind. 

2.  We  come,  as  Americans,  to  mark  a  spot  which 
must  forever  be  dear  to  us  and  our  posterity.  We  wish 
that  whosoever,  in  all  coming  time,  shall  turn  his  eye 
hither,  may  behold  that  the  place  is  not  undistinguished, 
where  the  first  great  battle  of  the  Revolution  was  fought. 
We  wish  that  this  structure  may  proclaim  the  magni- 
tude and  importance  of  that  event  to  every  class  and 
every  age. 

3.  We  wish  that  infancy  may  learn  the  purpose  of 
its  erection  from  maternal  lips,  and  that  weary  and 
withered  age  may  behold  it,  and  be  solaced  by  the 
recollections  which  it  suggests.  We  wish  that  labor 
may  look  up  here,  and  be  proud,  in  the  midst  of  its 
toil. 

4.  We  wish  that,  in  those  days  of  disaster  which,  as 
they  come  on  all  nations,  must  be  expected  to  come  on 
us  also,  desponding  patriotism  may  turn  its  eyes  hither- 
ward,  and  be  assured  that  the  foundations  of  our  national 
power  still  stand  strong.  We  wish  that  this  column, 
rising  toward  heaven  among  the  pointed  spires  of  so 
many  temples  dedicated  to  God,  may  contribute  also  to 
produce  in  all  minds  a  pious  feeling  of  dependence  and 
gratitude. 

5.  We  wish,  finally,  that  the  last  object  on  the  sight 
of  him  who  leaves   his   native   shore,   and   the   first   to 


FIFTH    READER.  173 

gladden  his  who  revisits  it,  may  be  something  which 
shall  remind  him  of  the  liberty  and  the  glory  of  his 
country.  Let  it  rise,  till  it  meet  the  sun  in  his  coming; 
let  the  earliest  light  of  the  morning  gild  it,  and  parting 
day  linger  and  play  on  its  summit. 

Websteb. 


70.     EVENING-. 

Require  pupils  to  memorize  this  poem  for  recitation. 

1.  Slowly,  slowly  up  the  wall 

Steals  the  sunshine,  steals  the  shade; 
Evening  damps  begin  to  fall. 
Evening  shadows  are  displayed. 

2.  Round  me,  o^er  me,  every-where, 

All  the  sky  is  grand  with  clouds, 
And  athwart  the  evening  air 

Wheel  the  swallows  home  in  crowds. 

3.  Shafts  of  sunshine  from  the  west 

Paint  the  dusky  windows  red; 
Darker  shadows,  deeper  rest, 
Underneath  and  overhead. 

4.  Darker,  darker,  and  more  wan, 

In  my  breast  the  shadows  fall; 
Upward  steals  the  life  of  man, 
As  the  sunshine  from  the  wall. 

5.  From  the  wall  into  the  sky, 

From  the  roof  along  the  spire: 
Ah,  the  souls  of  those  that  die 
Are  but  sunbeams  hfted  higher. 

LONOFELLOW. 


174  FIFTH    READER. 


71.     LABOR. 

1.  Labor  is  heaven's  great  ordinance  for  human  im- 
provement. Let  not  the  great  ordinance  be  broken  down. 
What  do  I  say?  It  is  broken  down;  and  has  been 
broken  down  for  ages.  Let  it,  then,  be  built  again; 
here,  if  anywhere,  on  the  shores  of  a  new  world — of  a 
new  civilization. 

2.  But  how,  it  may  be  asked,  is  it  broken  down? 
Do  not  men  toil?  it  may  be  said.  They  do,  indeed, 
toil;  but  they  too  generally  do,  because  they  must. 
Many  submit  to  it,  as  to,  in  some  sort,  a  degrading  neces- 
sity; and  they  desire  nothing  so  much  on  earth  as  an 
escape  from  it.  This  way  of  thinking  is  the  heritage 
of  the  absurd  and  unjust  feudal  system,  under  which 
serfs  labored,  and  gentlemen  spent  their  lives  in  fighting 
and  feasting.  It  is  time  that  this  opprobrium  of  toil 
were  done  away. 

3.  Ashamed  to  toil!  Ashamed  of  thy  dingy  workshop 
and  dusty  labor-field;  of  thy  hard  hand,  scarred  with  ser- 
vice more  honorable  than  that  of  war;  of  thy  soiled  and 
weather-stained  garments,  on  which  mother  Nature  has 
embroidered  mist,  sun,  and  rain,  fire  and  steam — her  own 
heraldic  honors!  Ashamed  of  those  tokens  and  titles, 
and  envious  of  the  flaunting  robes  of  imbecile  idleness 
and  vanity!  It  is  treason  to  Nature;  it  is  impiety  to 
Heaven :  it  is  breaking  Heaven's  great  ordinance.  Toil — 
toil,  either  of  the  brain,  of  the  heart,  or  of  the  hand — 
is  the  only  true  manhood,  the  only  true  nobility! 


Orville  Dewey. 

17 

WRITTEN 

receipt 

contempt 

relieve 

SPET.T.ING.— WORDS    OFTEN    MISSPELLED. 

beginner            possession           -to-day 
benefited            together               to-night 
committed         to-morrow           holiday 

FIFTH    READER.  175 


72.     SUPPLEMENTARY   SELECTIONS. 

Dialogues,  humorous  readings,  and  dialect  pieces,  are 
usefid  in  school  for  the  purpose  of  breaking  up  stiffness, 
formality,  and  monotony  in  reading. 

There  seems  to  be  no  good  reason  why  the  flashes 
of  wit  and  humor,  that  delight  a  whole  nation,  should 
be  altogether  shut  out  of  the  school-room.  The  wise 
teacher  will  make  good  use  of  such  selections,  taking 
care  to  exclude  objectionable  pieces. 

These  extracts  should  be  read  at  sight,  the  book  being 
passed  from  hand  to  hand.  Many  suitable  selections 
may  be  found  in  such  books  as  the  Pichwich  Papers, 
Hood^s  PoemSj  Holmes's  Poems,  Saxe's  Poems,  Bret  JSarte^s 
Poems,  LowelVs  Biglow  Papers,  etc. 

Good  pieces  will  be  found  in  most  of  the  numerous 
volumes  of  elocutionary  selections,  such  as  the  Speakers 
Garland,  ElociUionisfs  Annual,  etc. 

The  following  is  a  short  hst  of  suggested  selections, 
which  may  be  extended  at  the  pleasure  of  the  teacher. 

1.  Tale  of  a  Trumpet.  Hood. 

2.  How  the  Old  Horse  Won  the  Bet.        Holmes. 

3.  Polyphemus  and  Ulysses.  Saxe. 

4.  The  School-master's  G-uests.  Will  Garleton. 

5.  The  Courtin'.  *  Lowell. 

6.  The  Caudle  Curtain  Lectures.  Jerrold. 

7.  Father  Phil's  Subscription  List.  Lover. 

8.  Handy  Andy's  Letter.  Lover. 

9.  The  Lost  Heu-.  Hood. 

10.  Darius  Green  and  His  Flying  Machine.  Trowbridge. 

11.  The  Deacon's  Masterpiece.  Holmes. 

12.  Parson  Turrell's  Legacy.  Holmes. 

13.  Aunt  Tabitha.  Holmes. 

14.  The  Boys.  Holmes. 

15.  Once  More.  Holmes. 


176 


FIFTH    READER. 


PHONIC   OR   DIACRITICAL   MARKS. 

I.      PHONIC    MARKS    OF    VOCALS. 


Macron. 

Breue. 

Circumflex. 

Two  dots. 

One  dot. 

Waue  or 

- 

w 

^ 

•• 

• 

Tilde.  - 

ale 

at 

air 

arm,  all 

ask,  what 

eve,  they 

end 

where 

her 

ice,  by 

it,  lynx 

pique 

sir 

old 

on 

or 

prove 

son,  wolf 

moon 

book 

use 

Tip 

urge 

rule 

pidl 

II.      EQUTVAXENT   VOCALS    OR    SUBSTITUTES. 


a  =  o 

what,    not 

6  =  ii 

done,      siin 

e  =  a 

they,     day 

0,  u=  oo 

move,     rule,    moon 

i=e 

sir,        her 

0,  u  =  d6 

wolf,      push,    wool 

^=a 

there,    c^e 

y  =  i 

rhyme,   time 

i  =  e 

pique,   weak 

y-i 

hymn,    slim 

6=:a 

or,         aU 

III.      MARKINGS    OF    SUBVOCALS    AND    ASPIRATES. 


9,  9h=s,  sh 

gent,    ghai§e 

§  =  z 

i§,      ro§e 

■e,  ■eh  =  k 

■eake,   aehe 

Ih,  vocal 

this,  that 

g,  hard 

go,       get 

n  =  ng 

ink,  wink 

g=i 

gem,    age 

x=gz 

example 

FIFTH    READER. 


177 


TABLE   OF  ELEMENTARY   SOUNDS. 

I.     VOCALS. 


a 

a-ge, 

n-a-me 

1,  f 

I-U, 

h-y-mn 

a 

a-rm, 

a-rt 

o 

6-ld, 

n-o 

a 

a-U, 

1-aw 

0 

6-n, 

6-dd 

a 

a-t, 

a-n 

0,  oo 

m-o-ve, 

m-oo-n 

a 

a-ir, 

■e-a-re 

u 

ii-se, 

d-ue 

a 

a-sk, 

1-a-st 

ti 

ii-p, 

s-ii-n 

e 

e-ve, 

m-e 

u 

u-rge, 

b-u-rn 

e 

e-nd, 

Hg 

11,    00 

f-u-U, 

w-(56-l 

e 

h-e-r, 

e-rr 

oi,  oy 

oi-1, 

b-oy 

h  y 

i-ce, 

m-y 

ou,  ow 

ou-t, 

ow-1 

II.     SUBVOCAXS. 


b 

b-r-b, 

b-a-be 

r 

r-oa-r,    r-ea-r 

d 

d-I-d, 

o-dd 

til 

tii-ine,    wi-tii 

g 

g-a-g, 

g-H 

V 

v-al-ve,  wa-ve 

J 

j-am, 

g-em 

w 

w-ill,      w-eU 

1 

l-ii-U, 

a-le 

y 

y-6s,       y-gt 

m 

m-ai-m, 

na-me 

z 

z-one,     z-in-e 

n 

n-u-n, 

ma-ne 

zh,  z 

a-z'ure,  sei'z-ure 

ng,  n 

I-n-k, 

ra-n-k 

III.      ASPIKATES. 


f 

f-i-fe, 

5-ff 

t 

t-Sn-t,       t-ar-t 

h 

h-at, 

h-iU 

cb 

ch-iir-ch,  ch-ain 

k 

k-iU, 

boo-k 

sh 

sh-ip,        wi-sh 

P 

p-i-pe, 

p-ut 

th 

th-ick,       th-in 

s 

s-ell, 

s-iiii 

wh 

wb-^n,      wh-ere 

5-12 


178 


FIFTH    READER. 


TABLE  OF  CONSONANT  SOUNDS. 

Classified  according  to  their  formation  hy  the  organs  of  speech. 

In  order  to  secure  correct  and  forcible  articulation,  it 
may  be  desirable  to  call  the  attention  of  pupils  to  the 
position  of  the  organs  of  speech  in  making  the  conso- 
nant sounds.  Teachers  can  do  this  without  any  detailed 
instructions  in  print.  As  an  incidental  aid  in  this  direc- 
tion, the  following  classification  is  given,  in  which  the 
sounds  are  grouped  according  to  the  organs  most  prom- 
inently called  into  use  in  their  formation. 


Lip  Sounds. 
[Labials.] 

b 

m 

wh 

P 
w 

b-a-be, 

m-ai-m, 

wh-y, 

p-i-pe 

w-ay 

wh-en 

Lips  and  Teeth.  . 
[Labio-Dentals.] 

f 

V 

f-i-fe, 
v-ine. 

f-eo-ff 
e-ve 

Tongue  and  Teeth. 
[Linguo-Dentals .  ] 

d 
til 

s 
z 

t 

th 

ch 

sh 

zh 

d-i-d, 
til-is, 

j-oy, 

s-un, 
z-one, 

t-en-t 

th-ink 

ch-ur-ch 

sh-un 

a-z'ure 

Tongue  and  Palate. 

[Lingno-Palatals.  ] 

1 

y 

k 
r 

g-ood, 
1-u-U, 

y-et, 

boo-k 
r-oa-r 

y-es 

Nasal  Passages. 

n 
ng 

n-o-ne, 
si-ng. 

ii-i-ne 
ri-ng 

Glottis. 

h 

h-at, 

h-ow 

PART  II. 


FIFTH    READER. 


181 


Shakespeare's  House. 


1.     WILLIAM   SHAKESPEARE. 


1.  William  Shakespeare,  the  greatest  of  dramatic 
poets,  was  bom  at  Stratford-on-Avon,  in  England,  in 
1564.  His  father  is  said  by  some  to  have  been  a  butcher; 
by  others,  a  wool-dealer.  The  son  was  placed  in  the 
free  school  of  Stratford,  where  he  acquired  "  small  Latin 
and  less  Greek." 

2.  In  consequence  of  his  father's  embarrassment  in 
business,  the  son  was  withdrawn  from  school.  About 
the  year  1587,  in  the  twenty-third  year  of  his  age,  he 
removed  to  London.  His  first  employment  was  that  of 
an  actor,  a  profession  which  he  continued  to  exercise, 
more  or  less,  for  seventeen  years. 

3.  In  twenty-three  years  he  wrote  thirty-seven  plays, 
some  of  which  are  unequaled  as  di-amatic  productions. 
In  1613,  he  retired  from  the  theatre,  and  returned  to 
Stratford,  wh*ere  he  passed  the  three  remaining  years 
of  his  life  in  ease,  retirement,  and  the  conversation  of 


182  FIFTH    READER. 

his  friends.     He  died  on  the  23d  of  April,  1G16,  having 
completed  his  fifty-second  year. 

4.  His  remains  lie  in  the  chancel  of  the  great  church 
at  Stratford.  Shakespeare  has  been  and  always  will  be 
the  wonder  and  admiration  of  mankind.  How  with  his 
education  and  opportunities  he  could  pour  forth  works 
that  eclipse  those  of  any  other  poet,  is  an  inexplicable 
phenomenon. 

5.  He  has  been  well  called  the  mj^iad-minded  Shake- 
speare ;  and,  indeed,  he  seemed  to  combine  in  himself  the 
excellencies  of  the  most  distinguished  poets.  An  intel- 
lect, large  and  comprehensive;  an  imagination  that  "ex- 
hausted worlds  and  then  invented  new,"  and  a  genuine 
love  of  nature,  were  crowned  by  a  marvelous  power  of 
expression.  Not  a  word  in  his  writings  can  be  changed 
without  injury  to  the  meaning. 

6.  He  held  "the  mirror  up  to  nature"  and  to  man. 
He  seemed  to  enter  into  every  character  he  drew,  and 
all  his  characters  speak  and  act  like  real  men  and  women. 
It  has  been  said  that  there  is  not  a  phase  of  life  for 
which  an  appropriate  quotation  cannot  be  made  from 
his  works.  The  contemporaries  of  Shakespeare  speak 
of  the  cheerfulness  and  serenity  of  his  mind,  and  the 
gentleness,  benevolence,  and  goodness  of  his  heart. 

7.  "  So  far  from  Shakespeare's  being  the  least  known," 
says  Emerson,  "he  is  the  one  person,  in  all  modern  his- 
tory, known  to  us.  What  point  of  morals,  of  manners, 
of  economy,  of  philosophy,  of  religion,  of  taste,  of  the 
conduct  of  life,  has  he  not  settled?  What  mystery  has 
he  not  signified  his  knowledge  of  ?  What  office,  or  func- 
tion, or  district  of  man's  work,  has  he  not  remembered ! 
What  king  has  he  not  taught  state,  as  Talma  taught 
Napoleon?  What  maiden  has  not  found  him  finer  than 
her  delicacy?  What  lover  has  he  not  outloved?  What 
sage  has  he  not  outseen?  What  gentleman  has  he  not 
instructed  in  the  rudeness  of  his  behavior?" 


FIFTH    READER.  183 


2.    THE   FUNERAL   OF   JULIUS   C^SAR. 

[Note.  This  extract  forms  the  second  scene,  act  iii.,  of  Shakespeare's  play  of  "Julius 
Caesar."  The  events  represented  immediately  follow  the  assassination  of  Caesar,  B.  C.  44. 
Mark  Antony,  a  friend  of  Caesar,  had  been  allowed  by  Brutus  and  Cassius,  the  leaders  of 
the  conspiracy,  "  to  speak  at  Caesar's  funeral."] 

Scene— The  Forum  in  Rome.    Present— ^rvtvs  and  Cassius  and  a  throng  of  Citizens. 

Citizens.  We  will  be  satisfied;  let  us  be  satisfied. 

Brutus.   Then  follow  me,  and  give  me  audience,  friends. 
Cassius,  go  you  into  the  other  street, 
And  part  the  numbers. — 

Those  that  will  hear  me  speak,  let  them  stay  here; 
Those  that  will  follow  Cassius,  go  with  him; 
And  public  reasons  shall  be  rendered 
Of  Caesar's  death. 

First  Citizen.    I  will  hear  Brutus  speak. 

Second  Citizen.    I  will  hear  Cassius;  and  compare  their 
reasons,  when  severally  we  hear  them  rendered. 

lExit  Cassius,  with  some  of  the  Citizens.    Brutus  goes  into  the 
pulpit.  ] 

Third  Citizen.    The  noble  Brutus  is  ascended:  silence! 

Brutus.  Be  patient  tiU  the  last. 
Romans,  countrymen,  and  lovers !  hear  me  for  my  cause, 
and  be  silent,  that  you  may  hear;  beheve  me  for  mine 
honor,  and  have  respect  to  mine  honor,  that  you  may 
believe;  censure  me  in  your  wisdom,  and  awake  your 
senses,  that  you  may  the  better  judge.  If  there  be  any 
in  this  assembly,  any  dear  friend  of  Caesar's,  to  him  I 
say  that  Brutus'  love  to  Caesar  was  no  less  than  his.  If, 
then,  that  friend  demand  why  Brutus  rose  against  Caesar, 
this  is  my  answer:  Not  that  I  loved  Caesar  less,  but  that 
I  loved  Rome  more.  Had  you  rather  Caesar  were  liv- 
ing, and  die  all  slaves,  than  that  Caesar  were  dead,  to 
live  all  free  men  ?  As  Caesar  loved  me,  I  weep  for  him ; 
as  he  was  fortunate,  I  rejoice  at  it;   as  he  was  valiant, 


184  FIFTH    READER 

I  honor  him:  but,  as  he  was  ambitious,  I  slew  him. 
There  is  tears  for  his  lovej  joy  for  his  fortune;  honor 
for  his  valor;  and  death  for  his  ambition.  Who  is  here 
so  base  that  would  be  a  bondman?  If  any,  speak;  for 
him  have  I  offended.  Who  is  here  so  rude  that  would 
not  be  a  Roman?  If  any,  speak;  for  him  have  I  of- 
fended. Who  is  here  so  vile  that  wiU  not  love  his 
country?  If  any,  speak;  for  him  have  I  offended.  I 
pause  for  a  reply. 

All.    None,  Brutus,  none. 

Brutus.  Then  none  have  I  offended.  I  have  done  no 
more  to  Caesar  than  you  shall  do  to  Brutus.  The  ques- 
tion of  his  death  is  enrolled  in  the  Oapitol;  his  glory 
not  extenuated,  wherein  he  was  worthy,  nor  his  offenses 
enforced,  for  which  he  suffered  death. 

\_Enter  Antony  mid  others,  with  Cesar's  hofhj.'\ 

Here  comes  his  body,  mourned  by  Mark  Antony:  who, 
though  he  had  no  hand  in  his  death,  shall  receive  the 
benefit  of  his  dying,  a  place  in  the  commonwealth;  as 
which  of  you  shall  not?  With  this  I  depart — that,  as 
I  slew  my  best  lover  for  the  good  of  Rome,  I  have  the 
same  dagger  for  myseK  when  it  shaU  please  my  country 
to  need  my  death. 

All.    Live,  Brutus !   live,  live ! 

First  Citizen.  Bring  him  with  triumph  home  unto  his 
house. 

Second  Citizen.    Give  him  a  statue  with  his  ancestors. 

Third  Citizen.    Let  him  be  Caesar. 

Fourth  Citizen.  Caesar's  better  parts  shall  be  crowned 
in  Brutus. 

First  Citizen.  We'll  bring  him  to  his  house  with 
shouts  and  clamors. 

Brutus.    My  countrymen, — 

Second  Citizen.    Peace,  silence!   Brutus  speaks. 

First  Citizen.    Peace,  ho ! 


FIFTH    READER.  185 

Brutus.    Good  countrymen,  let  me  depart  alone, 
And,  for  my  sake,  stay  here  with  Antony. 
Do  grace  to  Caesar's  corse,  and  grace  his  speech 
Tending  to  Caesar's  glories,  which  Mark  Antony, 
By  our  permission,  is  allowed  to  make. 
I  do  entreat  you,  not  a  man  depart, 
Save  I  alone,  till  Antony  have  spoke. 

First  Citizen.    Stay,  ho  !  and  let  us  hear  Mark  Antony. 

Third  Citizen.    Let  him  go  up  into  the  pubUc  chair; 
We'll  hear  him. — ^Noble  Antony,  go  up. 

Antony.    For  Brutus'  sake,  I  am  beholden  to  you. 

IGoes  up.l 

Fourth  Citizen.    What  does  he  say  of  Brutus? 

Third   Citizen.    He    says,  for   Brutus'  sake,  he  finds 
himself  beholden  to  us  all. 

Fourth   Citizen.    'Twere  best   he    speak   no   harm   of 
Brutus  here. 

First  Citizen.    This  Caesar  was  a  tyrant. 

Third  Citizen.    Nay,  that's  certain;  We  are  bless'd  that 
Rome  is  rid  of  him. 

Third  Citizen.  Peace  !  let  us  hear  what  Antony  can  say. 

Antony.    You  gentle  Romans — 

Citizens.    Peace,  ho !   let  us  hear  him. 

Antony.    Friends,  Romans,  countrymen,  lend  me  your 
ears: 
I  come  to  bury  Caesar,  not  to  praise  him. 
The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them; 
The  good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones; 
So  let  it  be  with  Caesar.     The  noble  Brutus 
Hath  told  you  Caesar  was  ambitious. 
If  it  were  so,  it  was  a  grievous  fault, — 
And  grievously  hath  Caesar  answered  it. 
Here,  under  leave  of  Brutus  and  the  rest — 
For  Brutus  is  an  honorable  man; 
So  are  they  aU,  all  honorable  men — 
Come  I  to  speak  in  Caesar's  funeral. 


186  FIFTH    READER. 

He  was  my  friend,  faithful  and  just  to  me: 

But  Brutus  says  he  was  ambitious  j 

And  Brutus  is  an  honorable  man. 

He  hath  brought  many  captives  home  to  Rome, 

Whose  ransoms  did  the  general  coffers  fill: 

Did  this  in  Caesar  seem  ambitious? 

When  that  the  poor  have  cried,  Caesar  hath  wept: 

Ambition  should  be  made  of  sterner  stuff. 

Yet  Brutus  says  he  was  ambitious; 

And  Brutus  is  an  honorable  man. 

You  all  did  see  that  on  the  Lupercal 

I  thrice  presented  him  a  kingly  crown, 

Which  he  did  thrice  refuse.    Was  this  ambition? 

Yet  Brutus  says  he  was  ambitious; 

And,  sure,  he  is  an  honorable  man. 

I  speak  not  to  disprove  what  Brutus  spoke. 

But  here  I  am  to  speak  what  I  do  know. 

You  all  did  love  him  once,  not  without  cause; 

What  cause  withholds  you,  then,  to  mourn  for  him? 

O  judgment,  thou  art  fled  to  brutish  beasts, 

And  men  have  lost  their  reason  ! — Bear  with  me ; 

My  heart  is  in  the  coffin  there  with  Caesar, 

And  I  must  pause  tiU  it  come  back  to  me. 

First  Citizen.  Methinks  there  is  much  reason  in  his 
sa^dngs. 

Second  Citizen.  It  thou  consider  rightly  of  the  matter, 
Caesar  has  had  great  ^vrong. 

Third  Citizen.  Has  he,  masters?  I  fear  there  wiU  a 
worse  come  in  his  place. 

Fourth  Citizen.  Marked  ye  his  words  ?  He  would  not 
take  the  crown;  therefore  'tis  certain  he  was  not  am- 
bitious. 

First  Citizen.  If  it  be  found  so,  some  will  dear 
abide  it. 

Second  Citizen.  Poor  soul!  his  eyes  are  red  as  fire 
with  weeping. 


FIFTH    READER.  187 

Third   Citizen.     There's  not  a  nobler  man  in  Rome 
than  Antony. 

Fourth  Citizen.    Now  mark  him,  he  begins   again  to 
speak. 

Antony.    But  yesterday  the  word  of  Caesar  might 
Have  stood  against  the  world;   now  lies  he  there, 
And  none  so  poor  to  do  him  reverence. 

0  masters!   if  I  were  disposed  to  stir 
Yonr  hearts  and  minds  to  mutiny  and  rage, 

1  should  do  Brutus  wrong,  and  Cassius  wrong, 
Who,  you  all  know,  are  honorable  men. 

I  will  not  do  them  wrong;   I  rather  choose 

To  ^vrong  the  dead,  to  wrong  myseK  and  you, 

Than  I  will  wrong  such  honorable  men. 

But  here's  a  parchment  with  the  seal  of  Gaesar — 

I  found  it  in  his  closet — ^'tis  his  wiU: 

Let  but  the  commons  hear  this  testament 

(Which,  pardon  me,  I  do  not  mean  to  read). 

And  they  would  go  and  kiss  dead  Caesar's  wounds, 

And  dip  their  napkins  in  his  sacred  blood; 

Yea,  beg  a  hair  of  him  for  memory. 

And,  dying,  mention  it  within  their  wiUs^ 

Bequeathing  it  as  a  rich  legacy 

Unto  their  issue. 

Fourth  Citizen.    We'll  hear  the  will.     Read  it,  Mark 
Antony. 

Citizens.    The  will,  the  will !   we  will  hear  Caesar's  will. 

Antony.  Have  patience,  gentle  friends;  I  must  not  read  it : 
It  is  not  meet  you  know  how  Caesar  loved  you. 
You  are  not  wood,  you  are  not  stones,  but  men 
And,  being  men,  hearing  the  will  of  Caesar, 
It  will  inflame  you,  it  wiU  make  you  mad. 
'Tis  good  you  know  not  that  you  are  his  heirs; 
For,  if  you  should,  O,  what  would  come  of  it! 

Fourth  Citizen.    Read  the  will!   we'U  hear  it,  Antony; 
You  shall  read  us  the  will!     Caesar's  wiU! 


188  FIFTH    READER. 

Antony.    Will  you  be  patient!    Will  you  stay  a  while? 
I  have  o'ershot  myself,  to  tell  you  of  it. 
I  fear  I  wrong  the  honorable  men 
Whose  daggers  have  stabbed  Caesar  j  I  do  fear  it. 

Fourth  Citizen.   They  were  traitors !     Honorable  men ! 

Citizens.    The  will !   the  testament ! 

Second  Citizen.     They  were  villains,   murderers.     The 
will!     Read  the  will! 

Antony.    You  will  compel  me,  then,  to  read  the  will? 
Then  make  a  ring  about  the  corse  of  Caesar, 
And  let  me  show  you  him  that  made  the  will. 
Shall  I  descend?    And  will  you  give  me  leave? 

Citizens.     Come  down.  [He  comes  down. 

Second  Citizen.     Descend. 

Third  Citizen.    You  shall  have  leave. 

Fourth  Citizen.     A  ring!   stand  round. 

First   Citizen.     Stand  from   the  hearse;    stand  from 
the  body. 

Second  Citizen.     Room  for  Antony ! — most  noble  An- 
tony ! 

Antony.    Nay,  press  not  so  upon  me;   stand  far  off. 

Several  Citizens.     Stand  back !  room  !   bear  back ! 

Antony.    If  you  have  tears,  prepare  to  shed  them  now. 
You  all  do  know  this  mantle;   I  remember 
The  first  time  ever  Caesar  put  it  on; 
'Twas  on  a  summer's  evening,  in  his  tent, 
That  day  he  overcame  the  Nervii. 
Look !   in  this  place  ran  Cassius'  dagger  through. 
See  what  a  rent  the  envious  Casca  made ! 
Through  this  the  well-beloved  Brutus  stabbed; 
And,  as  he  plucked  his  cursed  steel  away, 
Mark  how  the  blood  of  Caesar  followed  it, 
As  rushing  out  of  doors,  to  be  resolved 
If  Brutus  so  unkindly  knocked,  or  no; 
For  Brutus,  as  you  know,  was  Caesar's  angel.: 
Judge,  O  you. gods,  how  dearly  Caesar  loved  him! 


FIFTH    READER.  189 

This  was  the  most  unkindest  cut  of  allj 

For  when  the  noble  Caesar  saw  him  stab, 

Ingratitude,  more  strong  than  traitors'  arms, 

Quite  vanquished  him.     Then  burst  his  mighty  heart; 

And,  in  his  mantle  muffling  up  his  face, 

Even  at  the  base  of  Pompey's  statue, 

Which  all  the  while  ran  blood,  great  Caesar  fell. 

0,  what  a  fall  was  there,  my  countrymen! 

Then  I,  and  you,  and  all  of  us  fell  down. 

Whilst  bloody  treason  flourished  over  us. 

0,  now  you  weepj   and  I  perceive  you  feel 

The  dint  of  pity:   these  are  gracious  drops. 

Kind  souls,  what,  weep  you  when  you  but  behold 

Our  Caesar's  vesture  wounded?    Look  you  here, 

Here  is  himseK,  marred,  as  you  see,  with  traitors. 

First  Citizen.    O  piteous  spectacle! 

Second  Citizen.    O  noble  Caesar! 

Third  Citizen.     O  woful  day ! 

Fourth  Citizen.     O  traitors,  villains! 

First  Citizen.     O  most  bloody  sight! 

Second  Citizen.    We  will  be  revenged. 

Citizens.     Revenge — about — seek — bum — fire — kill — . 
slay, — let  not  a  traitor  live ! 

Antony.     Stay,  countrjonen. 

First  Citizen     Peace  there!    hear  the  noble  Antony. 

Second    Citizen.    We'll   hear  him,    we'll   foUow   him, 
we'U  die  with  him. 

Antony.     Good  friends,  sweet  friends,  let  me  not  stir 
you  up 
To  such  a  sudden  flood  of  mutiny. 
They  that  have  done  this  deed  are  honorable: 
What  private  griefs  they  have,  alas,  I  know  not. 
That  made  them  do  it;  they  are  wise  and  honorable. 
And  win,  no  doubt,  with  reasons  answer  you. 
I  come  not,  friends,  to  steal  away  your  hearts: 
I  am  no  orator,  as  Brutus  is;  ' 


190  FIFTH    READER. 

But,  as  yon  know  me  all,  a  plain  blunt  man, 

That  love  my  friend;   and  that  they  know  full  well 

That  gave  me  public  leave  to  speak  of  him. 

For  I  have  neither  wit,  nor  words,  nor  worth, 

Action,  nor  utterance,  nor  the  power  of  speech, 

To  stir  men's  blood:   I  only  speak  right  on; 

I  teU  you  that  which  you  yourselves  do  know; 

Show  you    sweet    Caesar's    wounds,    poor,    poor    dumb 

mouths. 
And  bid  them  speak  for  me:   but  were  1  Brutus, 
And  Brutus  Antony,  there  were  an  Antony 
"Would  ruffle  up  your  spirits,  and  put  a  tongue 
In  every  wound  of  Caesar,  that  should  move 
The  stones  of  Rome  to  rise  and  mutiny. 

Citizens.     We'll  mutiny. 

First  Citizen.    We'll  burn  the  house  of  Brutus. 

Third  Citizen.    Away,  then!   come,  seek  the  conspira- 
tors. 

Antony.    Yet  hear  me,  countrymen;  yet  hear  me  speak. 

Citizens.     Peace,  ho!  hear  Antony;  most  noble  Antony. 

Antony.    Why,  friends,  you  go  to  do  you  know  not 
what. 
Wherein  hath  Caesar  thus  deserved  your  loves? 
Alas,  you  know  not: — I  must  tell  you,  then. 
You  have  forgot  the  will  I  told  you  of. 

Citizens.     Most  true ;    the  wiU  ! — let 's  stay,  and  hear 
the  win. 

Antony.     Here  is  the  will,  and  under  Caesar's  seal. 
To  every  Roman  citizen  he  gives, 
To  every  several  man,  seventy-five  drachmas. 

Second   Citizen.    Most   noble   Caesar!    We'll  revenge 
his  death. 

Third  Citizen.     O  royal  Caesar! 

Antony.    Hear  me  with  patience. 

All.    Peace,  ho ! 

Antony.    Moreover,  he  hath  left  you  all  his  walks, 


FIFTH    READER. 


191 


His  private  arbors  and  new-planted  orchards, 
On  this  side  Tiber — he  hath  left  them  you, 
And  to  your  heirs  forever,  common  pleasures. 
To  walk  abroad  and  recreate  yourselves. 
Here  was  a  Caesar !   when  comes  such  another  ? 

First  Citizen.    Never,  never! — Come,  away,  away! 
We'll  bum  his  body  in  the  holy  place. 
And  with  the  brands  fire  the  traitors'  houses. 
Take  up  the  body.  » 

Second  Citizen.    Go  fetch  fire. 

Third  Citizen.     Pluck  down  benches. 

Fourth  Citizen.    Pluck  down  forms,  windows,  anything. 

[Exeunt  Citizens  with  the  body.] 

Antony.    Now  let  it  work.    Mischief,  thou  art  afoot. 
Take  thou  what  course  thou  wilt! 


DEFINITIONS. 


testament,  will. 

commons,  the  common  people. 

napkins,  handkereliiefs. 

issue,  children. 

dint,  emotion. 

answered  it,  atoned  for  it. 

general  coflfers,  the  public  treas- 
ury. 

mu'ti  ny,  to  revolt  against  lawful 
authority. 

marred  with,  mangled  by. 
Most   nnkindest      In    the   time 

of  Shakespeare,  double  compara- 


tives and  superlatives  were  not 
uncommon. 

The  NerviL  A  warlike  tribe  of 
Gaul. 

Lend  me  your  ears.  Give  me 
your  attention. 

The  Lupercal.  One  of  the  most 
ancient  of  the  Roman  festivals. 

Who,  you  all  know,  are  honorable 
men.  Spoken  ironically.  Read 
honcrrahle  with  the  rising  circum- 
flex inflection,  and  men  with  the 
slight  rising  inflection. 


1 

WRITTEN    SPELLING.— WORDS    AND    THEIR    OPPOSITES. 

Write  the 

following  words, 

and 

after  each,  a 

word  that  has  an 

opposite  meaning. 

positive 

sink 

merry 

plentiful 

selfish 

concise 

obscure 

convex 

profit 

dense 

hberty 

please 

192  FIFTH    READER. 


a     GOOD  READING. 


1.  There  is  one  accomplishment,  in  particular,  which  I 
would  earnestly  recommend  to  you.  Cultivate  assidu- 
ously the  ability  to  read  well.  I  stop  to  particularize 
this,  because  it  is  a  thing  so  very  much  neglected,  and 
because  it  is  such  an  elegant  and  charming  accomplish- 
ment. Where  one  person  is  really  interested  by  music, 
twenty  are  pleased  by  good  reading.  Where  one  person 
is  capable  of  becoming  a  skillful  musician,  twenty  may 
become  good  readers.  Where  there  is  one  occasion  suit- 
able for  the  exercise  of  musical  talent,  there  are  twenty 
for  that  of  good  reading. 

2.  The  culture  of  the  voice  necessary  for  reading  well, 
gives  a  delightful  charm  to  the  same  voice  in  conversa- 
tion. Good  reading  is  the  natural  exponent  and  vehicle 
of  dll  good  tilings.  It  seems  to  bring  dead  authors  to 
life  again,  and  makes  us  sit  down  familiarly  with  the 
great  and  good  of  all  ages. 

3.  What  a  fascination  there  is  in  reaUy  good  reading ! 
What  a  pdwer  it  gives  one!  In  the  hospital,  in  the 
chamber  of  the  Invalid,  in  the  nursery,  in  the  domestic 
and  in  the  social  circle,  among  chosen  friends  and  com- 
pdnions,  how  it  enables  you  to  minister  to  the  amiise- 
ment,  the  comfort,  the  pleasure  of  dear  ones  as  no  other 
art  or  accomplishment  can.  No  instrument  of  man's 
devising  can  reach  the  heart  as  does  that  most  wonder- 
ful instrument,  the  human  voice. 

4.  If  you  would  double  the  value  of  aU  your  other 
acquisitions;  if  you  would  add  immeasurably  to  your 
oivn  enjoyment  and  to  your  power  of  promoting  the 
enjoyment  of  others,  cultivate,  with  incessant  care,  this 
divine  g\ft.  No  music  below  the  s¥ies  is  equal  to  that  of 
pure,  silvery  speech  from  the  hps  of  a  man  or  woman  of 
high  culture.  john  s.  haet. 


FIFTH    READER.  193 


I.    VOCAL  TJ?AI2VTJVGf.— Movement,  Rate,  or  Time 

There  are  three  main  distinctions  of  movement  in  read- 
ing— sloiv,  moderate,  and  fast. 

Slow  movement  prevails  in  the  utterance  of  praise 
and  adoration,  and  in  the  expression  of  grief,  melancholy, 
meditation,  grandeur,  and  sublimity. 

Moderate  rate  prevails  in  narrative,  descriptive,  or  di- 
dactic reading;  in  fact,  in  the  greater  part  of  selections 
for  school  reading. 

Fast,  or  quick  rate  prevails  in  the  expression  of  mirth, 
humor,  gladness,  or  hurry  and  haste. 


CONCERT    MOVEMENT    DRIIX. 

Repeat  four  times,  the  long  vowel  sounds — a,  e,  i,  o,  ii 

1.  With  slow  movement. 

2.  With  moderate  movement. 

3.  With  fast  movement. 


I.     SliOW  MOVEIHENT. 

In  this  movement  the  vowel  and  liquid  sounds  are  prolonged,  and 
the  rhetorical,  emphatic,  and  grammatical  pauses  are  long. 

I.      THE  HOUR  OF  DEATH. 

Leaves  have  their  time  to  faU, 
And  flowers  to  wither  at  the  north-wind's  breath, 

And  stars  to  set — but  all. 
Thou  hast  all  seasons  for  thine  own,  O  Death! 

Youth  and  the  opening  rose 
May  look  like  things  too  glorious  for  decay, 

And  smile  at  thee— but  thou  art  not  of  those 
That  wait  the  ripened  bloom  to  seize  their  prey. 

5-13  Mrs.  Hemans. 


194  FIFTH    READER. 

II.      TO  A  WATERFOWL. 

Whither,  midst  falling  dew, 

While  glow  the  heavens  with  the  last  steps  of  day, 
Far,  through  their  rosy  depths,  dost  thou  pursue 

Thy  soHtary  way? 

Vainly  the  fowler's  eye 

Might  mark  thy  distant  flight  to  do  thee  wrong, 
As  darkly  painted  on  the  crimson  sky. 

Thy  figure  floats  along. 

Bryant. 

III.    gray's  elegy. 
The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day; 

The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea; 
The  plowman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way. 

And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me. 

Now  fades  the  glimmering  landscape  on  the  sight, 
And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds, 

Save  where  the  beetle  wheels  his  drony  flight, 
And  drowsy  tinklings  lull  the  distant  folds. 


n.    MODERATE   MOVEMENT. 

THE  bra\t:. 

How  sleep  the  brave  who  sink  to  rest 
By  all  their  country's  wishes  blest! 
When  Spring,  with  dewy  fingers  cold, 
Eetums  to  deck  their  hallowed  mold. 
She  there  shall  dress  a  sweeter  sod 
Than  Fancy's  feet  have  ever  trod. 


Collins. 


Note.  Almost  any  piece  of  narrative  or  descriptive  prose  affords 
examples  of  moderate  movement.  From  pieces  in  Part  I,  previously 
read,  require  pupils  to  select  extracts  to  be  read  with  moderate 
rate. 


FIFTH    READER.  195 

III.     FAST    MOVEMENT. 

I.      THE  MESSAGE. 

The  muster-place  is  Lanrick  mead; 
Speed  forth  the  signal  !  Norman,  speed  I 
The  summons  dread  brooks  no  delay. 
Stretch  to  the  race — away !   away ! 

Scott. 
II.      THE   SUMMONS. 

Come  as  the  winds  come,  when  forests  are  rended; 
Come  as  the  waves  come,  when  navies  are  stranded 
Faster  come,  faster  come,  faster  and  faster: 
Chief,  vassal,  page,  and  groom,  tenant  and  master. 
Fast  they  come,  fast  they  come;    see  how  they  gather! 
Wide  waves  the  eagle  plume,  blended  with  heather. 
Cast  your  plaids,  draw  your  blades,  forward  each  man  set; 
Pibroch  of  Donuil  Dhu,  knell  for  the  onset! 

Scott. 
III.      THE  PRAIRIE  FIRE. 

Pull,  pull  in  your  lassos,  and  bridle  to  steed, 
And  speed  you  if  ever  for  hfe  you  would  speed. 
And  ride  for  your  lives,  for  your  lives  you  must  ride ! 
For  the  plain  is  aflame,  the  prairie  on  fire; 
And  feet  of  wild  horses  hard  flying  before, 
I  hear  hke  a  sea  breaking  high  on  the  shore; 
While  the  buffalo  come  like  a  surge  of  the  sea, 
Driven  far  by  the  flame,  driving  fast  on  us  three, 
As  a  hurricane  comes,  crushing  palms  in  his  ire. 

MiLlEB. 

IV.      L' ALLEGRO. 

Sometimes,  with  secure  delight, 
The  upland  hamlets  will  invite, 
When  the  merry  bells  ring  round. 
And  the  jocund  rebecs  sound. 
To  many  a  youth  and  many  a  maid, 
Dancing  in  the  checkered  shade. 

Milton. 


196 


FIFTH    READER. 


4.     JOHN   G-REENLEAF   WHITTIER. 


1.  John  Greenleaf  Whittiei:  is  of  a  Quaker  family,  and 
was  born  in  Haverhill,  Mass.,  1807.  He  afterwards  re- 
moved to  Amesbury,  and  thence  to  Danvers,  where  he 
now  resides.  Until  he  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  he 
remained  at  home,  attending  the  district  school  and 
assisting  his  father  on  the  farm. 

2.  One  afternoon,  while  he  was  gathering  in  the  hay, 
a  peddler  dropped  a  copy  of  Burns  in  his  hands.  As 
he  sat  under  a  maple's  shadow,  singing  with  Burns  the 
hours  away,  his  eyes  were  unsealed.  He  found  that  the 
things  out  of  which  poetry  came  were  not  away  off  in 
a  foreign  land,  but  lying  right  there  about  his  feet, 
and  among  the  people  he  knew. 


FIFTH    READER.  197 

3.  The  common  things  of  our  life  he  found  were  full 
of  poetry. 

"I  matched  with  Scotland's  heathery  hills 
The  sweet-brier  and  the  clover; 
With  Ayr  and  Doon,  my  native  rills 
Their  wood-hymns  chanting  over." 

4.  And  thus  he  became  an  American  poet.  .  Of  all  our 
poets  Whittier  had  the  least  advantages  fi*om  schools; 
but  he  was  a  born  poet,  and  his  "native  wood-notes 
wild"  are  sweeter  than  all  the  trills  and  flourishes  of 
art.  He  has,  not  inaptly,  been  called  the  Bums  of 
America.  We  hear  in  him  the  same  simple,  fervid,  and 
loving  strains;  we  find  in  both  descriptions  of  humble 
life  and  the  common  scenes  of  nature;  we  are  thrilled 
by  the  same  whole-hearted  and  generous  appeals  to  what- 
ever is  best  in  humanity. 

5.  He  was  an  early  and  manly  opponent  to  slavery — 
but  while  he  condemned  the  system,  he  had  no  animosity 
towards  the  slave-holders.  His  heaviest  blows  fell  upon 
northern  apologists  for  slavery.  Never  had  reformer  so 
kindly  a  heart.  No  one  can  read  his  works  without 
being  touched  by  the  sweet  and  tender  strains  of  his 
poetry.  His  soul  is  fiUed  with  love  and  reverence  for 
God,  and  with  good  wiU  to  all  his  fellow-men. 

6.  "  There  is  no  drop  of  his  blood,"  says  David  Wasson, 
'Hhere  is  no  fibre  of  his  brain  which  does  not  crave 
poetic  expression.  He  is  intelligibly  susceptible  to  those 
who  have  Uttle,  either  of  poetic  culture,  or  of  fancy 
and  imagination.  Whoever  has  common-sense  and  a 
sound  heart  has  the  power  by  which  he  may  be  appre- 
ciated. And  yet  he  is  not  only  a  real  poet,  but  he  is 
all  poet.  His  notes  are  not  many,  but  in  them  Nature 
herself  sings.  He  is  a  sparrow  that  half  sings,  half 
chirps  on  a  bush,  not  a  lark  that  floods  with  orient 
hilarity  the  skies  of  morning. 

7.  ''His   genius    is   Hebrew   Biblical — ^more   so   than 


198  FIFTH    READER. 

that  of  any  other  poet  now  using  the  English  language. 
He  is  a  flower  of  the  moral  sentiment,  and  of  the  moral 
sentiment  not  in  its  flexible,  feminine,  vine-like  depend- 
ence and  play,  but  in  its  masculine  vigor,  climbing,  in 
direct  afiirmation,  Hke  a  forest  pine.  Moreover,  the  man 
and  the  poet  are  one  and  the  same.  His  verse  is  a  re- 
presentation of  that  which  is  presented  to  his  conscious^ 
nessj  and  in  his  voice  you  can  hear  the  deep  refrain  of 
Nature,  and  of  Nature  chanting  her  moral  ideal." 

8.  Of  his  poems,  the  following  are  recommended  to 
young  readers:  ^' The  Witch's  Daughter,"  ^^  Robert  Raw- 
hn,"  ^^  Songs  of  Labor,''  "  Snow-Bound,"  "Maud  MuUer," 
"In  School-days,"  and  "The  Friend's  Burial." 


5.     SKIPPER   IRESON'S   RIDE. 

1.  Of  aU  the  rides,  since  the  birth  of  time, 
Told  in  story  or  sung  in  rhyme — 

On  Apuleius's  Golden  Ass, 
Or  one-eyed  Calendar's  horse  of  brass, 
"Witch  astride  of  a  human  hack, 
Islam's  prophet  on  Al-Borak — 
The  strangest  ride  that  ever  was  sped 
Was  Ireson's,  out  from  Marblehead! 
Old  Floyd  Ireson,  for  his  hard  heart 
Tarred  and  feathered  and  carried  in  a  cart 
By  the  women  of  Marblehead! 

2.  Body  of  turkey,  head  of  owl. 
Wings  a-droop  like  a  rained-on  fowl, 
Feathered  and  ruffled  in  every  part. 
Skipper  Ireson  stood  in  the  cart. 
Scores  of  women,  old  and  young. 
Strong  of  muscle,  and  glib  of  tongue, 


FIFTH    READER.  199 

Pushed  and  pulled  up  the  rocky  lane, 
Shouting  and  singing  the  shrill  refrain: 
"Here's  Flud  Oirson,  fur  his  horrd  horrt, 
Torr'd  an'  futherr'd  an'  corr'd  in  a  corrt 
By  the  women  o'  Morble'ead!" 

3.  Wrinkled  scolds  with  hands  on  hips, 
Girls  in  bloom  of  cheek  and  lips, 
Wild-eyed,  free-limbed,  such  as  chase 
Bacchus  round  some  antique  vase. 
Brief  of  skirt,  with  ankles  bare, 
Loose  of  kerchief  and  loose  of  hair. 

With  conch-shells  blowing  and  fish-horns'  twang, 

Over  and  over  the  Maenads  sang: 

"Here's  Flud  Oirson,  fur  his  horrd  horrt 
Torr'd  an'  futherr'd  an'  corr'd  in  a  corrt 
By  the  women  o'  Morble'ead ! " 

4.  Small  pity  for  him! — ^he  sailed  away 
From  a  leaking  ship  in  Chaleur  Bay — 
Sailed  away  from  a  sinking  wreck, 
With  his  own  towns-people  on  her  deck! 
"Lay  by!  lay  by!"  they  cried  to  himj 
Back  he  answered,  "  Sink  or  swim ! 
Brag  of  your  catch  of  fish  again ! " 

And  off  he  sailed  through  the  fog  and  rain! 
Old  Floyd  L'eson,  for  his  hard  heart, 
Tarred  and  feathered  and  carried  in  a  cart 
By  the  women  of  Marblehead! 

5.  Fathoms  deep  in  dark  Chaleur 
That  wreck  shall  lie  forevermore. 
Mother  and  sister,  wife  and  maid, 
Looked  from  the  rocks  of  Marblehead 
Over  the  moaning  and  rainy  sea — 
Looked  for  the  coming  that  might  not  be! 


200  FIFTH    READER. 

What  did  the  winds  and  the  sea-birds  say 
Of  the  cruel  captain  who  sailed  away? — 
Old  Floyd  Ireson,  for  his  hard  heart, 
Tarred  and  feathered  and  carried  in  a  cart 
By  the  women  of  Marblehead! 

6.  Through  the  street,  on  either  side, 
Up  flew  windows,  doors  swnng  wide, 
Sharp-tongned  spinsters,  old  wives  gray, 
Treble  lent  the  fish-horn's  bray. 
Sea-worn  grandsires,  cripple-bound. 
Hulks  of  old  sailors  run  aground, 
Shook  head  and  fist  and  hat  and  cane, 
And  cracked  with  curses  the  hoarse  refrain: 

"Here's  Flud  Oirson,  fur  his  horrd  horrt, 
Torr'd  an'  futherr'd  an'  corr'd  in  a  corrt 
By  the  women  o'  Morble'ead ! " 

7.  Sweetly  along  the  Salem  road 
Bloom  of  orchard  and  lilac  showed. 
Little  the  wicked  skipper  knew 

Of  the  fields  so  green  and  the  sky  so  blue. 
Riding  there  in  his  sorry  trim, 
Like  an  Indian  idol  glum  and  grim. 
Scarcely  he  seemed  the  sound  to  hear 
Of  voices  shouting  far  and  near: 

"Here's  Flud  Oirson,  fur  his  horrd  horrt, 
Torr'd  an'  futherr'd  an'  corr'd  in  a  corrt 
By  the  women  o'  Morble'ead!" 

8.  "Hear  me,  neighbors!"  at  last  he  cried — 
"What  to  me  is  this  noisy  ride? 

What  is  the  shame  that  clothes  the  skin 
To  the  nameless  horror  that  lives  within? 
Waking  or  sleeping  I  see  a  wreck, 
And  hear  a  cry  from  a  reeling  deck! 


FIFTH    READER. 


201 


Hate  me  and  curse  me — I  only  dread 
The  hand  of  God  and  the  face  of  the  dead!'' 
Said  old  Floyd  Ireson,  for  his  hard  heart, 
Tarred  and  feathered  and  carried  in  a  cart 
By  the  women  of  Marblehead! 

9.  Then  the  wife  of  the  skipper  lost  at  sea 

Said,  ^^God  has  touched  him! — why  should  we?^ 
Said  an  old  wife  mourning  her  only  son, 
^^Gut  the  rogue's  tether,  and  let  Mm  run!'^ 
So  with  soft  relentings  and  rude  excuse, 
Half  scorn,  half  pity,  they  cut  him  loose. 
And  gave  him  a  cloak  to  hide  him  in. 
And  left  him  alone  with  his  shame  and  sin. 
Poor  Floyd  Ireson,  for  his  hard  heart. 
Tarred  and  feathered  and  carried  in  a  cart 
By  the  women  of  Marblehead! 


John  G.  Whittibe. 


DEFINITIONS. 


Apuleius's  Golden  Ass.  Apule'ius, 
a  Roman  philosopher,  bom  in 
the  second  century  of  the 
Christian  era.  The  most  cel- 
ebrated of  his  works  is  the 
''  Metamorphosis,  or  Golden 
Ass." 

Msenads.  The  Maenads  were  the 
Bacchantes,  or  priestesses  of 
Bacchus:  the  name  was  given 
in  allusion  to  their  frenzied 
movements. 


One-Eyed  Calendar's  horse  of  brass. 

See  the  story  of  Agib,  the 
•third  Calendar,  in  the  '^  Ara- 
bian Nights'  Entertainments. 

Al-Borak,  a  wondrous  imaginary 
animal,  on  which  Mohammed 
pretended  to  have  made  a 
night  journey  from  Mecca  to 
Jerusalem  and  thence  to  the 
seventh  heaven. 

Chaleur  Bay,  an  inlet  in  the  Gulf 
of  St.  Lawrence. 


WRITTEN    SPEI.I.ING.— SYNONYMS. 

irrite  a  synonym  of 

each  of  the  following  words  : 

beautiful 

moment 

inquire 

possess 

indolent 

tidings 

construct 

appears 

conduct 

abundant 

perform 

allow 

merchant 

teacher 

schooling 

church 

202  FIFTH    READER. 


IL     VOCAL  TBAmiWG.—Fonc^  of  Voice. 

Force  relates  to  loudness  of  voice  or  intensity  of  ex- 
pression. The  general  rule  of  force  is  to  read  loud  enough 
to  fill  the  room  so  that  every  one  can  hear  distinctly 
what  is  read.  Of  course,  the  loudness  must  vary  ac- 
cording to  the  size  of  the  room  or  the  number  of  hearers. 
The  expression  of  different  feeUngs,  however,  requires 
different  degrees  of  force.  Some  pieces  require  gentle 
or  soft  force 5  some,  moderate  force;  and  others,  loud 
force.  The  same  piece,  also,  may  require,  at  times,  each 
of  these  degrees,  in  order  to  express  the  feeling  appro- 
priately. 

Soft,  or  gentle  force  is  appropriate  to  the  expression 
of  peace,  tenderness,  or  sadness. 

Moderate,  or  natural  force  is  the  characteristic  force 
of  unimpassioned,  narrative,  descriptive,  and  didactic 
composition. 

Loud  force  is  characteristic  of  courage,  boldness,  de- 
fiance; and  of  what  is  grand,  noble,  and  sublime. 


CONCERT    FORCE    DRILI.. 

Repeat 
1. 
2. 
3. 

three  times,  the  vocals:   a. 
With  soft,  or  gentle  force. 
With  moderate  force. 
With  loud,  or  declamatory 

e,  i,  o,  u. 
force. 

I.     GENTXE,    OR   SOFT   FORCE. 

I.      FROM   THE    "story   OF  SCHOOL." 

The  mingled  hum  of  the  busy  town 
Rose  faint  from  the  lower  plain, 

And  we  saw  the  steeple  over  the  trees, 
With  its  motionless,  golden  vane, 


FIFTH    READER.  203 

And  heard  the  cattle's  musical  low, 
And  the  rustle  of  standing  grain. 

2.    We  waited  in  reverent  silence  long, 

And  silence  the  master  kept, 
Though  still  the  accustomed  saintly  smile 

Over  his  features  crept  j 
And  we  thought,  worn  out  with  the  lengthened  toil 

Of  the  summer's  day,  he  slept. 

8.    So  we  quietly  rose  and  left  our  seats, 

And  outward  into  the  sun, 
From  the  gathering  shade  of  the  dusty  room, 

Stole  silently  one  by  one — 
For  we  knew,  by  the  distant  striking  clock, 

It  was  time  the  school  was  done. 

4.    And  left  the  master  sleeping  alone. 

Alone  in  his  high-backed  chair. 
With  his  eyelids  and  his  withered  palms 

Folded  as  if  in  prayer, 
And  the  mingled  light  and  smile  on  his  face, 

And  we  knew  not  Death  was  there. 


H.    MODERATE   FORCE. 

I.      READING  AS  AN  ACCOMPLISHMENT. 

1.  We  had  rather  have  a  cluld  return  to  us  from 
school  a  first-rate  reader,  than  a  first-rate  performer  on 
the  piano-forte.  We  should  feel  that  we  had  a  far  better 
pledge  for  the  intelligence  and  talent  of  our  child. 
The  accomplishment,  in  its  perfection,  would  give  more 
pleasure.  The  voice  of  song  is  not  sweeter  than  the 
voice  of  eloquence.  And  there  may  be  eloquent  readers, 
as  well  as  eloquent  speakers. 

2.  Let  the  same  pains  be  devoted  to  reading,  as 
are  required  to  form  an  accomplished  performer  on  an 


204  FIFTH    READER. 

instrument.  It  is,  indeed,  a. most  intellectual  aceomplisli- 
ment.  So  is  music,  too,  in  its  perfection.  We  do  by- 
no  means  undervalue  this  noble  and  most  delightful  art, 
to  which  Socrates  appHed  himself,  even  in  his  old  age. 
But  one  recommendation  of  the  art  of  reading  is  that 
it  requires  a  constant  exercise  of  mind.  It  demands 
continual  and  close  reflection  and  thought,  and  the  finest 
discrimination  of  thought.  It  involves,  in  its  perfection, 
the  whole  art  of  criticism  on  language. 

III.     I.OUI>    FORCE. 

I.      THE    BELLS. 

Hear  the  loud  alarum  beUs — 
Brazen  bells! 
What  a  tale  of  terror,  now,  their  turbulency  teUs! 
In  the  startled  ear  of  night 
How  they  scream  out  their  affright! 
Too  much  horrified  to  speak. 
They  can  only  shriek,  shriek, 
Out  of  tune. 
In  the  clamorous  appeahng  to  the  mercy  of  the  fire. 
In  a  mad  expostulation  with  the  deaf  and  frantic  fire. 
Leaping  higher,  higher,  higher, 
With  a  desperate  desire, 
And  a  resolute  endeavor, 
Now — now  to  sit  or  never. 
By  the  side  of  the  pale-faced  moon. 
O  the  beUs,  beUs,  beUs ! 
What  a  tale  their  terror  tells 
Of  despauM 
How  they  clang,  and  dash,  and  roar! 
Wh^t  a  horror  they  outpour 
On  the  bosom  of  the  palpitating  air! 
Yet  the  ear,  it  fully  knows, 
By  the  twanging 
And  the  clanging, 


FIFTH    READER.  205 

How  the  danger  ebbs  and  flows  j 
Yet  the  ear  distinctly  tells, 
In  the  jangling, 
And  the  wrangling, 
How  the  danger  sinks  and  swells, 
By  the  sinking  or  the  swelling  in  the  anger  of  the  bells — 
Of  the  beUs— 
Of  the  beUs,  bells,  beUs,  beUs 
Bells,  bells,  bells — 
In  the  clamor  and  the  clangor  of  the  beUs; 

POE. 
II.      SPARTACUS  TO  THE  GLADIATORS. 

If  ye  are  beasts,  then  stand  here  like  fat  oxen,  wait- 
ing for  the  butcher's  knife!  If  ye  are  men — ^foUow  me! 
Strike  down  yon  guard,  gain  the  mountain  passes,  and 
there  do  bloody  work,  as  did  your  sires  at  old  Ther- 
mopylae !  Is  Sparta  dead  1  Is  the  old  Grecian  spirit 
frozen  in  your  veins,  that  you  do  crouch  and  cower 
like  a  belabored  hound  beneath  his  master's  lash?  O 
comrades!  warriors!  Thracians !  if  we  must  fight,  let 
us  fight  for  ourselves !  If  we  must  slaughter,  let  us 
slaughter  our  oppressors!  If  we  must  die,  let  it  be 
under  the  clear  sky,  by  the  bright  waters,  in  noble, 
honorable  battle! 

Kellogg. 
III.      TELL'S  address  to   the  MOUNTAIN'S. 

Ye  crags  and  peaks,  I  'm  with  you  once  again! 
I  hold  to  you  the  hands  you  first  beheld, 
To  show  they  still  are  free.    Methinks  I  hear 
A  spirit  in  your  echoes  answer  me, 
And  bid  your  tenant  welcome  to  his  home 
Again !  O,  sacred  forms,  how  proud  you  look ! 
How  high  you  lift  your  heads  into  the  sky ! 
How  huge  you  are !  how  might)/  and  how  free ! 

Knowi.es. 


206  FIFTH    READER. 


6.     THE    BEE   PASTURES   OF   CALIFORNIA. 

Part  I. 

1.  "When  California  was  wild,  it  was  one  sweet  bee- 
garden  throughout  its  entire  length,  north  and  south, 
and  all  the  way  across  from  the  snowy  Sierra  to  the 
Ocean.  Wherever  a  bee  might  fly  within  the  bounds  of 
this  virgin  wilderness — through  the  redwood  forests, 
along  the  banks  of  the  rivers,  along  the  bluffs  and  head- 
lands fronting  the  sea,  over  valley  and  plain,  park  and 
grove,  and  deep  leafy  glen,  or  far  up  the  piney  slopes 
of  the  mountains — throughout  every  belt  and  section  of 
chmate,  bee  flowers  bloomed  in  lavish  abundance. 

2.  Here  they  grew  more  or  less  apart,  in  special  sheets 
and  patches  of  no  great  size,  there  in  broad,  flowing  folds, 
hundreds  of  miles  in  length,  zones  of  polleny  forests,  zones 
of  flowery  chaparral,  stream-tangles  of  rubus  and  wild 
rose,  sheets  of  golden  compositae,  beds  of  violets,  beds  of 
mint,  beds  of  bryanthus  and  clover,  and  so  on, — certain 
species  blooming  somewhere  all  the  year  round. 

3.  Only  a  few  years  ago,  the  Great  Central  Plain  of 
California,  during  the  months  of  March,  April,  and  May, 
was  one  smooth,  continuous  bed  of  honey-bloom,  so 
marvelously  rich  that,  in  walking  from  one  end  of  it 
to  the  other,  a  distance  of  more  than  four  hundred 
miles,  your  feet  would  press  more  than  a  hundred 
flowers  at  every  step.  Mints,  nemophilas,  castilleias, 
gilias,  and  innumerable  composita?,  were  so  crowded  to- 
gether that,  had  ninety-nine  in  every  hundred  been  taken 
away,  the  plain  would  still  have  seemed  extravagantly 
flowery  to  any  but  Californians. 

4.  The  radiant,  honeyful  corollas,  touching  and  over- 
lapping, and  rising  above  one  another,  glowed  in  the 
living  light  like  a  sunset  sky — one  glorious  blaze  of 
purple  and  gold.    Down  through  the  midst  flowed  many 


FIFTH    READER.  207 

a  river,  the  Sacramento  from  the  north,  the  San  Joaquin 
from  the  south,  with  noble  tributaries  sweeping  in  at 
right  angles  from  the  mountains,  dividing  the  plain  into 
sections  fringed  with  trees. 

5.  My  first  view  of  this  central  garden,  the  most  ex- 
tensive and  best  defined  of  all  the  bee-pastures  of  the 
State,  was  obtained  from  the  summit  of  the  Pacheco 
pass,  about  the  middle  of  April,  1868,  when  it  was  re- 
joicing in  all  its  glory.  Along  the  eastern  horizon  rose 
the  mighty  Sierra,  white  and  jagged  with  snowy  peaks 
along  the  top,  dark  with  forests  in  the  middle  region, 
and  purple  with  grasses  and  flowers  and  chaparral  at 
the  base,  and  blending  gracefully  in  smooth  hill  undu- 
lations into  the  glowing  yeUow  plain,  which,  like  a  cloth 
of  gold,  was  seen  flowing  away  to  the  north  and  south 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach:  hazy  and  vanishing  in 
the  distance,  distinct  as  a  new  map  along  the  foot-hills 
at  my  feet — the  sunny  sky  arching  over  aU. 

6.  Descending  the  eastern  slopes  of  the  Coast  Range, 
through  beds  of  gilias  and  lupines,  and  around  many  a 
breezy  hillock  and  bush-crowned  headland,  I  at  length 
waded  out  into  the  midst  of  the  glorious  field  of  gold. 
All  the  ground  was  covered,  not  with  grass  and  green 
leaves,  but  with  radiant  corollas,  about  ankle-deep  next 
the  foot-hiUs,  knee-deep  or  more  five  or  six  miles  out. 

7.  Sauntering  in  any  direction,  hundreds  of  these 
happy  sun-plants  brushed  against  my  feet  at  every  step, 
and  closed  over  them  as  if  I  were  wading  in  liquid  gold. 
The  air  was  sweet  with  fragrance;  the  larks  sang  their 
blessed  songs,  rising  on  the  wing  as  I  advanced,  then 
sinking  out  of  sight  in  the  polleny  sod,  while  myriads 
of  wild  bees  stirred  the  lower  air  with  their  monotonous 
hum — ^monotonous,  yet  forever  fresh  and  sweet  as  every- 
day sunshine. 

8.  How  long  the  various  species  of  wild  bees  have 
lived  in  this  honey-garden  nobody  knows  j  probably  ever 


208  FIFTH    READER. 

since  the  main  body  of  the  present  flora  gained  posses- 
sion of  the  land,  toward  the  close  of  the  glacial  period. 
The  first  brown  honey-bees  brought  to  California  are 
said  to  have  arrived  in  San  Francisco  in  March,  1853. 
The  Uttle  emigrants  flourished  and  multiphed  in  the 
bountiful  pastures  of  the  Santa  Clara  Valley,  sending 
off  three  swarms  the  first  season.  Two  years  later  a 
single  swarm  was  taken  over  from  San  Jose,  and  let 
fly  in  the  Great  Central  Plain. 

9.  The  present  condition  of  the  Sacramento  Basin  is 
very  different  from  that  which  we  have  sketched.  The 
arch-destroyers  have  been  the  shepherds  with  their  flocks 
of  hoofed  locusts,  sweeping  over  the  ground  like  a  fire. 
The  bee-pastures  of  the  coast  ranges  last  longer  and  are 
far  more  varied  than  those  of  the  great  plain,  on  account 
of  differences  of  soil  and  cUmate,  moisture  and  shade. 

10.  Some  of  the  mountains  are  upward  of  four  thou- 
sand feet  in  height,  and  small  streams  and  springs,  oozy 
bogs,  etc.,  occur  in  great  abundance  and  variety  in  the 
wooded  regions,  while  open  parks  flooded  with  sunshine, 
and  hill-girt  valleys  lying  at  different  elevations,  each 
with  its  own  peculiar  climate  and  exposure,  possess  the 
required  conditions  for  the  development  of  species  and 
families  of  plants  widely  varied. 

DEFINITIONS. 

CO  roria,    the    most    conspicuous 

part    of    the    flower,    usually 

brightly  colored, 
man  za  ni'ta,  an  evergreen  shrub 

of  the  heath  family,  with  red 

bark,  and  drooping  clusters  of 

white  or  pink  flowers. 
porien  y,  abounding  with  the  dust 

of  the  anthers  of  flowers. 
ru''bus,  a  genus  of  the  rose  family 

of  plants.     The  kinds  here  re- 
ferred to  are  blackberries  and 

thimble-berries. 


chap  ar  ral',  a  thicket  of  low  ever- 
green shrubs. 

ne  moph''i  la,  a  genus  of  low  herbs 
with  usually  blue  flowers. 

cas  til  le^'ia,  a  genus  of  plants  pop- 
ularly known  as  squaw-pinks, 
or  painted-cups. 

gil'ia,  a  genus  of  plants  of  many 
species,  with  phlox-like  flowers. 

pe  die  u  la^'ris,  a  genus  of  plants 
resembling  castilleia. 

com  pos''it  86,  plants  of  the  sun- 
flower family,  as  the  daisy. 


FIFTH    READER.  209 


7.    THE   BEE   PASTURES   OF   CALIFORNIA. 

Part  II. 

1.  The  Sierra  region  is  the  largest  of  the  three  main 
divisions  of  the  bee-lands  of  the  State,  and  the  most 
regularly  varied  in  its  subdivisions,  owing  to  their 
gradual  rise  from  the  level  of  the  Central  Plain  to  the 
Alpine  summits.  Up  through  the  forest  region,  to  a 
height  of  about  nine  thousand  feet  above  sea-level,  there 
are  ragged  patches  of  manzanita,  and  five  or  six  species 
of  ceanothus,  called  deer-brush  or  California  lilac.  The 
pines  furnish  unlimited  quantities  of  pollen  and  honey- 
dew. 

2.  The  product  of  a  single  tree,  ripening  its  poUen 
at  the  right  time  of  the  year,  would  be  sufficient  for  the 
wants  of  a  whole  hive.  Along  the  streams  there  is  a 
rich  growth  of  lilies,  larkspurs,  pedicularis,  castilleias, 
and  clover.  The  Alpine  region  contains  the  flowery 
glacier  meadows,  and  countless  small  gardens  in  all  sorts 
of  places  full  of  flowers. 

3.  I  have  seen  wild  bees  and  butterflies  feeding  at  a 
height  of  thirteen  thousand  feet  above  the  sea.  Many, 
however,  that  go  up  these  dangerous  heights  never  come 
down  again.  Some,  undoubtedly,  perish  in  storms,  and 
I  have  found  thousands  lying  dead  or  benumbed  on 
the  surface  of  the  glaciers,  to  which  they  had  perhaps 
been  attracted  by  the  white  glare. 

4.  Bears  too,  roam  the  sweet  wilderness;  and  though 
the  California  bears  have  as  yet  had  but  little  experience 
with  honey-bees,  they  often  succeed  in  reaching  their 
bountiful  stores,  and  it  seems  doubtful  whether  bees 
themselves  enjoy  honey  vdth  so  great  a  relish.  By  means 
of  their  powerful  teeth  and  claws  they  can  gnaw  and 
tear  open  abnost  any  hive  conveniently  accessible.  Most 
honey-bees,  however,  in  search  of  a  home,  are  wise  enough 

5-U 


/"  • 


FIFTH    READER.  211 

to  make  choice  of  a  hollow  in  a  living  tree,  a  considerable 
distance  above  the  ground,  when  it  is  possible.  * 

5.  Here  they  are  pretty  secure,  for  though  the  smaller 
black  and  brown  bears  climb  well,  they  are  unable  to 
break  into  strong  hives  while  compelled  to  exert  them- 
selves to  keep  from  falling,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
endure  the  stings  of  the  fighting  bees  without  having 
their  paws  free  to  rub  them  off.  But  woe  to  the  black 
bumble-bees  discovered  in  their  mossy  mouse-nests  in 
the  ground !  The  bears  with  a  few  strokes  of  their  huge 
paws  lay  the  entire  establishment  bare,  and,  before  time 
is  given  for  a  general  buzz,  bees  old  and  young,  larvae, 
honey,  stings,  nest,  and  all,  are  taken  in  in  one  ravish- 
ing mouthful. 

6.  A  good  many  of  the  so-called  bee-ranches  of  Los 
Angeles  and  San  Diego  counties  are  still  of  the  rudest 
pioneer  kind  imaginable.  A  man  unsuccessful  in  every- 
thing else  hears  the  interesting  story  of  the  profits  and 
comforts  of  bee-keeping,  and  concludes  to  try  it,  buy 
a  few  colonies,  or  gets  them  from  some  overstocked 
ranch  on  shares,  takes  them  back  to  the  foot  of  some 
canyon  where  the  pasturage  is  fresh,  squats  on  the  land, 
with  or  without  the  permission  of  the  owner,  sets  up 
his  hives,  makes  a  box  cabin  for  himself  scarcely  bigger 
than  a  bee-hive,  and  awaits  his  fortune. 

7.  The  Santa  Lucia,  San  Rafael,  San  Gabriel,  San 
Jacinto,  and  San  Bernardino  ranges  are  almost  untouched 
as  yet  save  by  the  wild  bees.  Some  idea  of  their  re- 
sources, and  of  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  they 
offer  to  bee-keepers,  may  be  formed  from  an  excursion 
that  I  made  into  the  San  Gabriel  range  about  the  be- 
ginning of  August  of  "the  dry  year."  This  range,  con- 
taining most  of  the  characteristic  features  of  the  other 
ranges  just  mentioned,  overlooks  the  Los  Angeles  vine- 
yards and  orange  groves  from  the  north,  and  is  more 
rigidly  inaccessible  in  the  ordinary  meaning  of  the  word 


212  FIFTH    READER. 

than  any  other  that  I  ever  attempted  to  penetrate.  The 
slopes  are  exceptionally  steep,  and  insecure  to  the  foot, 
and  they  are  covered  with  thorny  bushes  from  five  to 
ten  feet  high. 

8.  With  the  exception  of  Httle  spots,  not  visible  in 
general  views,  the  entire  surface  is  covered  with  them, 
massed  in  close  hedge  growth,  sweeping  gracefully  down 
into  every  gorge  and  hollow,  and  sweUing  over  every 
ridge  and  summit  in  shaggy,  ungovernable  exuberance, 
offering  more  honey  to  the  acre  for  half  the  year  than 
the  most  crowded  clover  field  in  bloom  time.  But  when 
beheld  from  the  open  San  Gabriel  Valley,  beaten  with 
dry  sunshine,  all  that  was  seen  of  the  range  seemed  to 
wear  a  forbidding  aspect.  From  base  to  summit  all 
seemed  gray,  barren,  silent,  its  glorious  chaparral  ap- 
pearing like  dry  moss  creeping  over  its  dull,  wrinkled 
ridges  and  hollows. 

9.  The  eastern  slopes  of  the  basin  are  in  every  way 
similar  to  those  we  have  described,  and  the  same  may 
be  said  of  other  portions  of  the  range.  From  the  highest 
summit,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  the  landscape  was 
one  vast  bee-pasture,  a  roUing  wilderness  of  honey  bloom, 
scarcely  broken  by  bits  of  forest  or  the  rocky  outcrops 
of  hiU-tops  and  ridges.  Beyond  the  San  Bernardino 
range  lies  the  wild  "sage-brush  country,"  bounded  on 
the  east  by  the  Colorado  River,  and  extending  in  a 
general  northerly  direction  to  Nevada  and  along  the 
eastern  base  of  the  SieiTa  beyond  Mono  Lake.  The 
greater  portion  of  this  immense  region,  including  Owens 
Valley,  Death  Valley,  and  the  Sink  of  the  Mohave,  and 
whose  area  is  nearly  one-fifth  that  of  the  entire  State, 
is  usually  regarded  as  a  desert,  not  because  of  any  lack 
in  the  soil,  but  for  want  of  rain,  and  rivers  available 
for  irrigation.  Very  Httle  of  it,  however,  is  desert  in 
the  eyes  of  a  bee. 

John  Muir. 


FIFTH    READER.  213 


III,    VOCAL  TBAi:^IN'G. -^Tim  Reading  of  Poetry. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  poetry  should  be  read 
as  if  it  were  prose.  Poetry,  being  the  rhythmical  and 
melodious  expression  of  imagination,  sentiment,  and 
passion,  requires  a  greater  variety  of  modulation  than 
does  prose.  The  chief  points  of  difference  may  be  briefly 
summed  up  as  follows: 

1.  Poetry,  being  a  rhythmical  succession  of  sounds, 
requires,  in  general,  a  slower  rate  or  movement  than 
prose,  and  a  greater  prolonging  of  vowel  and  hquid 
sounds. 

2.  In  consequence  of  metre,  or  the  measure  of  rhythm, 
poetry  should  be  read  with  a  slight  degree  of  musical 
utterance. 

3.  Due  attention  must  be  given  to  casual  pauses  and 
rhythmical  accent.  The  metre  should  be  delicately  in- 
dicated, but  not  made  so  prominent  as  to  run  into  a 
sing-song  style. 

4.  In  reading  poetry,  the  force  of  utterance  is  softened 
or  toned  down.  The  rhythm  of  verse  requires  a  slight 
swell  of  the  voice,  somewhat  hke  the  ''swell"  in  music. 

5.  Rhyme  should  be  indicated  by  a  slight  emphasis 
on  the  words  that  rh^Tue. 

6.  In  poetry,  as  in  prose,  attention  must  be  given  to 
emphasis,  rhetorical  pauses,  and  inflection.  The  frequent 
inversions  in  verse  make  rhetorical  pauses  more  frequent 
than  in  prose. 

7.  In  poetry  the  accent  of  a  word  is  sometimes  changed 
to  prevent  a  break  in  the  measure,  as 

"Adown  enormous  rav'ines  slope  amain." 

8.  For  the  same  reason  final  ed  is  often  sounded  as  a 
separate  syllable,  as 

"The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them j 
The  good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones." 


214  FIFTH    READER. 


8.     MODULATION   OF   THE   VOICE. 

'Tis  not  enough  the  voice  be  sound  and  clear; 

'Tis  modulation  that  must  charm  the  ear. 

The  voice  all  modes  of  passion  can  express, 

That  marks  the  proper  words  with  proper  stress. 

But  none  emphatic  can  that  actor  call, 

Who  lays  an  equal  emphasis  on  all. 

Some  o'er  the  tongue  the  labored  measures  roll. 

Slow  and  deliberate  as  the  parting  toll: 

Point  every  stop,  mark  every  pause  so  strong. 

Their  words,  like  stage  procession,  stalk  along. 

All  affectation  but  creates  disgust, 

And  e'en  in  speaking  we  may  seem  too  just. 

Some  placid  natures  fill  the  allotted  scene 

With  lifeless  drone,  insipid,  and  serene; 

While  others  thunder  every  couplet  o'er. 

And  almost  crack  your  ears  with  rant  and  roar. 

More  nature  oft,  and  finer  strokes,  are  shown 

In  the  low  whisper,  than  tempestuous  tone; 

And  Hamlet's  hollow  voice  and  fixed  amaze 

More  powerful  terror  to  the  mad  conveys. 

Than  he  who,  swollen  with  big,  impetuous  rage. 

Bullies  the  bulky  phantom  off  the  stage. 

He  who  in  earnest  studies  o'er  his  part 

Will  find  true  nature  chng  about  his  heart. 

The  modes  of  grief  are  not  included  all 

In  the  white  handkerchief  and  mournful  drawl; 

A  single  look  more  marks  the  internal  woe 

Than  all  the  windings  of  the  lengthened  O ! 

Up  to  the  face  the  quick  sensation  flies, 

And  darts  its  meaning  from  the  speaking  eyes: 

Love,  transport,  madness,  anger,  scorn,  despair, 

And  aU  the  passions, — aU  the  soul,  is  there. 

Llovd. 


FIFTH    READER.  215 

9.     BATTLE   OF   WATERLOO. 

acquire  j)upiJ^  to  memorize  for  concert  recitation. 

1. 
There  was  a  sound  of  revelry  by  mghf, 

And  Belgium's  capital  had  gathered  then 
Her  heaiitij  and  her  chwalry,  and  bright 

The  lamps  shone  o'er  fair  women  and  brave  m^n; 
A  thousand  hearts  beat  happily;   and  when 

Music  arose  with  its  voluptuous  swell, 
Soft  eyes  looked  love  to  eyes  which  sjmJce  agairiy 

And  all  went  merry  as  a  mdrriage-heW-j 
But  hush  I  hdrJc !  a  deep  sound  strikes  like  a  rising  knell  I 

2. 
Did  ye  not  hear  it? — N6;   'twas  but  the  ivind^ 

Or  the  car  rattling  o'er  the  stony  street: 
On  with  the  dance!  let  joy  be  unconfined; 

No  sleep  till  mdrUj  when  youth  and  pleasure  meet 
To  chase  the  glowing  hours  with  flying  feet — 

But  hark! — that  heavy  sound  breaks  in  once  more., 
As  if  the  clouds  its  echo  would  repeat; 

And  nearer,  clearer ^  deadlier  than  before ! 
Arm  !  arm  !   it  is — it  is  the  cdnnon^s  opening  roar ! 

3. 
Ah !   then  and  there  was  hurrying  to  and  fro, 

And  gathering  tears,  and  trembUngs  of  distress, 
And  cheeks  all  pale,  which  but  an  hour  ago 

Blushed  at  the  praise  of  their  own  loveliness; 
And  there  were  sudden  partings,  such  as  press 

The  life  from  out  young  hearts,  and  choking  sighs 
Which  ne'er  might  be  repeated:   ivho  could  guess 

If  ever  more  should  meet  those  mutual  eyes 
Since  upon  night  so  sweet  such  awful  morn  could  rise ! 


216  FIFTH    READER. 

4. 

And  there  was  mounting  in  hot  h^ste;   the  steed, 

The  mustering  squadron,  and  the  clattering  car, 
"Went  pouring  forward  with  impetuous  speed, 

And  swiftly  forming  in  the  ranks  of  war; 
And  the  deep  thunder  peal  on  peal  afar, 

And  near,  the  beat  of  the  alarming  drilm 
Roused  up  the  soldier  ere  the  morning  star; 

While  thronged  the  citizens  with  terror  dumb. 
Or  whispering  with  white  lips,  "  The  foe !     They  come  1 
thexj  come  /" 

5. 

And  Ardennes  waves  above  them  her  green  leaves. 

Dewy  with  nature's  tear-drops,  as  they  pass, 
Grievingj  if  aught  inanimate  e'er  grieves. 

Over  the  unreturning  hrclve — alas ! 
Ere  evening  to  be  trodden  like  the  grass, 

Which  now  beneath  them,  but  ahove  shall  grow 
In  its  next  verdure,  when  this  fiery  mass 

Of  living  valor,  rolling  on  the  foe, 
And  hurniny  with  high  hope,  shall  moulder  cold  and  low. 

6. 

Last  noon  beheld  them  fuU.  of  lusty  life, 

Last  eve  in  Beauty^ s  circle  proudly  gay; 
The  midnight  brought  the  signal-sound  of  strife, 

The  morn,  the  marshaling  in  arms — the  day, 
Battlers  magnificently  stern  array  ! 

The  thunder-clouds  close  o'er  it,  which  when  rent, 
The  earth  is  covered  thick  with  other  clay, 

Which  her  own  clay  shall  cover,  heaped  and  pent. 
Rider  and  horse — friend,   foe — in  one  red  burial  blent. 

Byiion's  Childe  Harold. 

Supplementary  Reading.    Let  the  class  read,  from  some  historical 
work,  if  obtainable,  an  account  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo. 


FIFTH    READER.  217 


10.     FAITHLESS   NELLY   GRAY. 

A  pun  is  generally  indicated  hy  tJie  circumflex  inflection.  A  rhe- 
torical pause  should  he  made  before  the  word  expressing  the  pun. 
Before  reading  call  on  the  class  to  explain  the  puns. 

1.  Ben  Battle  was  a  soldier  bold, 

And  used  to  war's  alarms; 
But  a  cannon-ball  took  off  his  UgSy 
So  he  laid  down  |  his  dryyis  ! 

2.  Now  Ben,  he  loved  a  pretty  maid, 

Her  name  was  Nelly  Gray; 
So  he  went  to  pay  her  his  devoirSy 
When  he'd  devoured  \  his  pay. 

3.  But  when  he  caUed  on  NeUy  Gray, 

She  made  him  quite  a  scoff; 
And  when  she  saw  his  wooden  legs, 
Began  |  to  take  them  off! 

4.  "O  NeUy  Gray!     O  NeUy  Gray! 

Is  this  your  love  so  warm! 
The  love  that  loves  a  scarlet  coat 
Should  be  more  |  uniform  ! '' 

5.  Said  she,  "I  loved  a  soldier  once, 

For  he  was  blithe  and  brave; 
But  I  wiU  never  have  a  man 
With  both  legs  |  in  the  grave! 

6.  "Before  you  had  those  timber  toes,     - 

Your  love  I  did  allow, 
But  then,  you  know,  you  stand  upon 
Another  |  footing  now ! " 


218      •  FIFTH  READER. 

7.  "  O  false  and  fickle  Nelly   Gray ! 

I  know  why  you  refuse: 
Though  IVe  no  feet  \  some  other  man 
Is  standing  |  in  mij  shoes  ! 

8.  "I  wish  I  ne'er  had  seen  your  face; 

But,  now,  a  long  farewell ! 
For  you  will  be  my  death', — alas 
You  will  not  be  |  my  J^ell ! " 

9.  Now  when  he  went  from  Nelly  Gray, 

His  heart  so  heavy  got, 
And  life  was  such  a  burden  grown, 
It  made  him  take  |  a  hidt  I 

10.  So,  round  his  melancholy  neck, 

A  rope  he  did  entwine. 
And  for  the  second  time  in  life, 
Enhsted  |  in  the  Line ! 

11.  One  end  he  tied  around  a  beam. 

And  then  removed  his  pegs. 
And,  as  his  legs  were  off, — of  course. 
He  soon  was  off  |  his  legs. 
t* 

12.  And  there  he  hung,  till  he  was  dead 

As  any  nail  in  town; 
For,  though  distress  had  cut  him  up. 
It  could  not  I  cut  him  down! 

Thomas  Hood. 


3 

AVIMTTEJif    SPELLING.— WORDS   AND    THELR 

Write  the  opposites  of  the  following  words  : 
antipathy           capable            poetry 
maximum           either               passive 
corpulent            peevish            palace 

OPPOSITES. 

survive 
straight 
freeman 

FIFTH    READER.  219 


TV.     VOCAL  TRAn^HifG.— Stress. 

Stress  denotes  the  manner  of  applying  force  of  voice 
to  single  words  or  sounds. 

The  radical  or  abrupt  stress  applies  the  force  of  voice 
suddenly  to  the  first  part  of  a  word  or  sound;  it  is  like 
the  beat  of  a  drum.  In  this  stress  the  vowel  and  liquid 
sounds  are  cut  short  abruptly.  It  is  used  in  the  expres- 
sion of  strong  passions,  such  as  anger,  and  in  courage 
and  boldness;  also  in  the  expression  of  strong  determi- 
nation, of  hurry,  and  of  alarm.  The  radical  stress  is 
indicated  thus,  (>  ). 

The  median  or  smooth  stress  corresponds  to  the  swell 
in  music,  being  strongest  in  the  middle  part  of  the 
sound.  It  is  indicated  thus,  (  <> ).  In  this  stress  the 
vowel  and  liquid  sounds  are  smooth  and  prolonged. 
The  median  stress  is  used  in  expressing  joy,  reverence, 
grandeur,  and  subUmity;  also  in  expressing  peace,  tran- 
quillity, and  tender  feeling.  It  prevails  in  the  reading 
of  poetry. 

The  other  technical  forms  of  stress — the  vanishing, 
thorough,  compound,  and  the  tremor — concern  only  ad- 
vanced pupils  in  elocution. 


CONCERT  DRnX   ON  STRESS. 

1.  Repeat  four  times  with  median  stress  the  long 
vowel  sounds — a,  e,  i,  o,  u. 

2.  Repeat  four  times  with  radical  or  abrupt  stress 
the  short  vocals — a,  e,  i,  o,  ii. 

3.  Repeat,  with  strong  force  and  abrupt  explosive 
stress  on  the  initial  vowel,  the  words:  a-le,  a-rm, 
a-U,  e-ve,  i-sle,  o-ld,  oo-ze,  oi-1,  ou-t. 

4.  Repeat  the  same  words  with  median  stress,  or 
strong  swell,  as  in  music. 


220  FIFTH    READER. 

EXAMPLES  OF  MEDIAN  STRESS.— CONCERT  DRILI,. 

In  median  stress,  prolong  the  vowel  sounds  and  make  long  pauses. 

I.  THE   BELLS. 

Hear  the  mellow  wedding-beUs, — 
Golden  bells ! 
What  a  world  of  happiness  their  harmony  foretells ! 
Through  the  balmy  au*  of  night, 
How  they  ring  out  their  delight ! 
From  the  molten-golden  notes, 

And  aU  in  tune, 
What  a  liquid  ditty  floats 
To  the  turtle-dove  that  listens,  while  she  gloats 
On  the  moon ! 
Oh,  from  out  the  sounding  cells, 
What  a  gush  of  euphony  voluminously  weUsJ 
How  it  swells. 
How  it  dwells 
On  the  Future  !    how  it  teUs 
Of  the  rapture  that  impels 
To  the  swinging  and  the  ringing 

Of  the  beUs,  beUs,  bells, 
Of  the  beUs,  beUs,  bells,  beUs, 
BeUs,  beUs,  beUs — 
To  the  rhyming  and  the  chiming  of  the  beUs! 

POE. 

II.  THE   PAST. 

Thou  unrelenting  Past ! 
Strong  I  are  the  barriers  |  round  thy  dark  domain. 

And  fetters,  sure  and  fast. 
Hold  all  that  enter  |  thy  unbreathing  reign. 

Childhood,  with  all  its  mirth, 
Youth,  Manhood,  Age,  that  draws  us  to  the  ground. 

And  last,  Man's  Life  on  earth, 
Ghde  to  thy  dim  dominions,  and  are  bound. 

Bryant. 


FIFTH    READER.  221 

III.      FROM    THE    BOOK    OF    PSALMS. 

Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul !  O  Lord,  my  Grod,  thou 
art  very  great !  thou  art  clothed  with  honor  and  majesty; 
who  coverest  thyself  with  light  as  with  a  garment;  wlio 
stretchest  out  the  heavens  like  a  curtain;  who  layeth 
the  beams  of  his  chambers  in  the  waters;  who  maketh 
the  clouds  his  chariot,  who  walketh  upon  the  wings  of 
the  wind;  who  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  that 
it  should  not  be  removed  for  ever. 

IV.    ossian's  address  to  the  sun. 

O  thou  that  roUest  above,  round  as  the  shield  of  my 
fathers !  whence  are  thy  beams,  O  sun !  thy  everlasting 
light?  Thou  comest  forth  in  thy  awful  beauty;  the 
stars  hide  themselves  in  the  sky;  the  moon,  cold  and 
pale,  sinks  in  the  western  wave.  But  thou  thyself 
movest  alone:   who  can  be  a  companion  of  thy  course? 

EXAMPLES  OF  RADICAL  STRESS CONCERT  DRILL.. 

I.      FROM  WEBSTER'S  SPEECH  OF  JOHN  ADAMS. 

Sink  or  swim,  live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  I  give  my 
hand  and  my  heart  to  this  vote ! 

Sir,  before  God,  I  believe  the  hour  is  come.  My 
judgment  approves  the  measure,  and  my  whole  heart 
is  in  it.  All  that  I  have,  and  aU  that  I  am,  and  all 
that  I  hope,  in  this  life,  I  am  now  ready  here  to  stake 
upon  it;  and  I  leave  off,  as  I  began,  that,  live  or  die, 
survive  or  perish,  I  am  for  the  declaration.  It  is  my 
living  sentiment,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  it  shall 
be  my  dying  sentiment: — independence  now^  and  inde- 
pendence FOREVER ! 

II.      FROM  SCOTT. 

But  Douglas  round  him  drew  his  cloak. 
Folded  his  arms,  and  thus  he  spoke: 


222  FIFTH    READER. 

"My  manors,  halls,  and  bowers  shall  still 
Be  open  at  my  sovereign's  will, 
To  each  one  whom  he  lists,  howe'er 
Unmeet  to  be  the  owner's  peer. 
My  castles  are  my  king's  alone, 
From  turret  to  foundation  stone; — 
The  hand  of  Douglas  is  his  oicUj 
And  never  shall,  in  friendly  grasp, 
The  hand  of  such  as  Mdrmion  clasp  ! " 
Burned  Marmion's  swarthy  cheek  like  fire, 
And  shook  his  very  frame  for  ire; 

And  "This  to  me!"  he  said,— 
"An  'twere  not  for  thy  hoary  beard. 
Such  hand  as  Marmion's  had  not  spared 

To  cleave  the  Douglas'  head ! 
And,  first,  I  tell  thee,  haughty  peer, 
He  who  does  England's  message  here, 
Although  the  meanest  in  her  state. 
May  well,  proud  Angus,  be  thy  mate ! 
And,  Douglas,  more  I  tell  thee  here, 

E'en  in  thy  pitch  of  pride: 
Here  in  thy  hold,  thy  vassals  near 
(Nay,  never  look  upon  your  lord, 
And  lay  your  hands  upon  your  sword), 

I  tell  thee,  thou'rt  defied! 
And  if  thou  said'st  I  am  not  peer 
To  any  lord  in  Scotland  here — 
Lowland  or  Highland,  far  or  near — 

Lord  Angus,  tlioii  hast  lied!^^ 
On  the  earl's  cheek,  the  flush  of  rage 
O'ercame  the  ashen  hue  of  age; 
Fierce  he  broke  forth:    "And  dar'st  thou,  then, 
To  beard  the  lion  in  his  den. 

The  Douglas  in  his  hdllf 
And  hop'st  thou  hence  unscathed  to  go? — 
JV^o,  by  Saint  Bride  of  Bothwell,  no!" 


FIFTH    READER.  223 


11      THE   ARSENAL. 

1. 
This  is  the  arsenal.     From  floor  to  ceiling, 

Like  a  huge  organ,  rise  the  burnished  arms;  ^ 
But  from  their  silent  pipes  no  anthem  pealing 

Startles  the  villages  with  strange  alarms. 

2. 
Ah,  what  a  sound  will  rise,  how  wild  and  dreary. 

When  the  death  angel  touches  those  swift  keys! 
What  loud  lament  and  dismal  miserere 

Will  mingle  with  their  awful  symphonies! 

3. 
I  hear  even  now  the  infinite  fierce  chorus. 

The  cries  of  agony,  the  endless  groan. 
Which,  through  the  ages  that  have  gone  before  us, 

In  long  reverberations  reach  our  own. 

4. 

On  helm  and  harness  rings  the  Saxon  hammer. 

Through  Cimbric  Forest  roars  the  Norseman's  song, 

And  loud,  amid  the  universal  clamor, 

O'er  distant  deserts,  sounds  the  Tartar  gong. 

5. 
I  hear  the  Florentine,  who  from  his  palace 

Wheels  out  his  battle-bell  with  dreadful  din, 
And  Aztec  priests,  upon  their  teocallis, 

Beat  the  wild  war-drums  made  of  serpent's  skin; 

6. 
The  tumult  of  each  sacked  and  burning  village; 

The  shout  that  every  prayer  for  mercy  drowns; 
The  soldiers'  revels  in  the  midst  of  pillage, 

The  wail  of  famine  in  beleaguered  towns; 


224  FIFTH    READER. 

7. 
The  bursting  shell,  the  gateway  wrenched  asunder, 

The  rattling  musketry,  the  clashing  blade  j 
And  ever  and  anon,  in  tones  of  thunder, 

The  diapason  of  the  cannonade. 

8. 
Is  it,  O  man,  with  such  discordant  noises, 

With  such  accursed  instruments  as  these, 
Thou  drownest  Nature's  sweet  and  kindly  voices, 

And  jarrest  the  celestial  harmonies ! 

9. 
Were  half  the  power  that  fills  the  world  with  terror, 

Were  haK  the  wealth,  bestowed  on  camps  and  courts, 
Given  to  redeem  the  human  mind  from  error, 

There  were  no  need  of  arsenals  and  forts: 

10. 
The  warrior's  name  would  be  a  name  abhorred ! 

And  every  nation,  that  should  lift  again 
Its  hand  against  its  brother,  on  its  forehead 

Would  wear  for  evermore  the  curse  of  Cain  ! 

11. 

Down  the  dark  future,  through  long  generations. 
The  echoing  sounds  grow  fainter,  and  then  cease  j 

And  like  a  bell,  with  solemn,  sweet  vibrations, 
I  hear  once  more  the  voice  of  Christ  say,  "  Peace ! " 

12. 

Peace !   and  no  longer  from  its  brazen  portals 
The  blast  of  War's  great  organ  shakes  the  skies! 

But  beautiful  as  songs  of  the  immortals, 
The  holy  melodies  of  love  arise. 

Longfellow. 


FIFTH    READER.  225 


12.     MRS.   CAUDLE   ON   UMBRELLAS. 

This  piece  illustrates  circumflex  inflection.  It  should  he  read  in 
an  emphatic,  conversational  style. 

1.  Bah!  that^s  the  third  umbrella  gone  since  Christ- 
mas. What  tvere  you  to  do?  Why,  let  him  go  home 
in  the  rain,  to  be  siire.  I'm  very  certain  there  was 
nothing  about  Mm  that  could  spoil !  Take  cold,  indeed ! 
'^e  doesn't  look  like  one  of  the  sort  to  taJce  cold.  Be- 
sides, he^d  have  better  taken  cdld,  than  taken  our  um- 
hrella. 

2.  Do  you  hear  the  rditij  Mr.  Caudle?  I  say,  do  you 
hear  the  rdinf  Do  you  hear  it  against  the  ivtndows? 
Nonsense:  you  don't  impose  upon  me ^  you  can't  be 
asleep  with  such  a  shower  as  that!  Do  you  hear  it,  I 
say  ?  Oh  !  you  do  hear  it !  Well,  that 's  a  pretty  flood, 
I  think,  to  last  for  six  weeks;  and  no  stirring  all  the 
time  out  of  the  house.  Pooh !  do  n't  tliink  me  a  fool, 
Mr.  Caudle;  don't  insult  me;  he  return  the  umbrella? 
Anybody  would  think  you  were  born  yesterday.  As  if 
anybody  ever  did  return  an  umbrella! 

3.  There;  do  you  hear  it?  Worse  and  worse.  Cats 
and  dogs!  and  for  six  weeks;  always  six  weeks;  and 
no  umbrella!  I  should  like  to  know  how  the  children 
are  to  go  to  school  to-morrow.  They  sha'n't  go  through 
such  weather;  I  am  determined..  No;  they  shall  stop 
at  home  and  never  learn  any  thing  (the  blessed  creat- 
ures !),  sooner  than  go  and  get  wet !  And  when  they 
grow  up,  I  wonder  whom  they  '11  have  to  thank  for 
knowing  nothing;  whom,  indeed,  but  their  father? 
People  who  can't  feel  for  their  own  children^  ought  never 
to  he  fathers. 

4.  But  I  know  why  you  lent  the  umbrella;  oh,  yes, 
I  know  very  well.  I  was  going  out  to  tea  at  dear 
mother's  to-morrow:   you  knew  that,  and  you  did  it  on 

0-15 


226  FIFTH    READER. 

purpose.  Don't  tell  me;  you  hate  to  have  me  to  go 
there,  and  take  every  mean  advantage  to  hinder  me. 
But  don't  you  think  it,  Mr.  Caudle;  no,  sir;  if  it  comes 
down  in  buckets  full,  I'll  go  all  the  more. 

5.  No ;  and  I  '11  not  have  a  cab  !  Where  do  you  think 
the  money ^s  to  come  from?  You've  got  nice,  high  no- 
tions at  that  club  of  yours.  A  cab,  indeed!  Cost  me 
sixteen-pence,  at  least;  sixteen-pence !  two -and -eight- 
pence;  for  there's  back  again.  Cabs,  indeed/  I  should 
like  to  know  who's  to  _/j«y  ^^^  '^^5  ^^^  I  ^^  ^^^^  !/^'* 
can't,  if  you  go  on  as  you  do,  throwing  away  your 
property,  and  beggaring  your  children,  buying  umbrellas ! 

6.  Do  you  hear  the  rdin,  Mr.  Caudle?  I  say,  do  you 
Jiear  it  ?  But  I  do  n't  care ;  I  '11  go  to  mother's  to-mor- 
row; I  will;  and  what's  more,  Fll  walh  every  step  of 
the  wdy;  and  you  know  that  will  give  me  my  death. 
Don't  caU  me  a  fooUsh  woman;  'tis  you  that's  the  fool- 
ish mdn. 

7.  You  know  I  can't  wear  clogs;  and  with  no  um- 
brella, the  wet's  sure  to  give  me  a  cold;  it  always  does, 
but  what  do  you  care  for  that  f  Nothing  at  all.  I  may 
be  laid  up  for  what  you  care,  as  I  dare  say  I  shall; 
and  a  pretty  doctor's  biU  there'll  be.  I  hope  there  will. 
It  will  teach  you  to  lend  your  umbrellas  again.  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  I  caught  my  death:  yes,  and  that's 
what  you  lent  the  umbreUa  for.     Of  course ! 

8.  Nice  clothes  I  get,  too,  traipsing  through  weather 
like  this.  My  gown  and  bonnet  wiU  be  spoiled  quite. 
NeednH  I  wear  'em,  then?  Indeed,  Mr.  Caudle,  I  shall 
wear  'em.  No,  sir;  I'm  not  going  out  a  dowdy  to  please 
you  or  anybody  else.  Gracious  knows!  it  isn't  often 
I  step  over  the  threshold;  indeed,  I  might  as  well  be  a 
slave  at  once;  better^  I  should  say;  but  when  I  do  go 
out,  Mr.  Caudle,  I  choose  to  go  as  a  lady. 

9.  Oh !  that  rain !  if  it  is  n't  enough  to  break  in  the 
windows.     Ugh !   I  look  forward  with  dread  for  to-mor- 


FIFTH    READER.  227 

row!  How  I  am  to  go  to  mother's,  I'm  sure  I  can't 
tell,  but  if  I  die,  IHl  do  it.  No,  sir;  I'll  not  borrow 
an  umbreUa:  no^  and  you  sha'n't  Mij  one.  Mr.  Caudle, 
if  you  bring  home  another  umbreUa,  IHl  throw  it  into 
the  street. 

10.  Ha!  it  was  only  last  week  I  had  a  new  nozzle 
put  on  that  umbreUa.  I  'm  sure  if  I  'd  laiown  as  much 
as  I  do  now,  it  might  have  gone  without  one.  Paying 
for  new  nozzles  for  other  people  to  laugh  at  you !  Oh ! 
'tis  all  very  well  for  you.  You've  no  thought  of  your 
poor,  patient  ^\dfe,  and  your  own  dear  children;  you 
think  of  nothing  but  lending  umbrellas.  Men,  indeed! 
caU  themselves  lords  of  credtion!  pretty  lordsj  when 
they  can't  even  take  care  of  an  umhreUa! 

11.  I  know  that  walk  to-morrow  will  be  the  death  of 
me,  but  that's  what  you  tvdnt:  then  you  may  go  to 
your  club,  and  do  as  you  like;  and  then,  nicely  my 
poor,  dear  children  will  be  used;  but  then,  sir,  then 
you'll  be  hdppy.  Oh!  don't  tell  me!  I  ^now  you  will: 
else  you  'd  never  have  lent  the  umhrSUa  !  You  have  to 
go  on  Thursday  about  that  summons;  and,  of  course, 
you  cdnH  go.  No,  indeed,  you  donH  go  without  the 
umbreUa.  You  may  lose  the  debt  for  what  I  care;  'tis 
not  so  bad  as  spoiling  your  clothes;  better  lose  it;  peo- 
ple deserve  to  lose  debts  who  lend  umbrellas. 

12.  The  chUdren  too  (dear  things) !  they  'U  be  sopping 
wet;  for  they  sha'n't  stay  at  home;  they  sha'n't  lose 
their  learning;'  'tis  aU  their  father  wiU  leave  them,  I'm 
sure.  But  they  shdll  go  to  school.  Don't  teU  me  I 
said  they  should  n^t  (you  are  so  aggravating,  Caudle, 
you'd  spoU  the  temper  of  an  angel);  they  shdll,  I  teU 
you  right  here,  they  shdll  go  to  school;  mark  theft-, 
and  if  they  get  their  deaths  of  cold,  'tis  not  my  fault. 
Did  I  lend  the  umbreUa,  IMr.  Caudle?— No,  I  didn't 
lend  the  umbreUa. 

From  Douglas  Jerrold's  Curtain  Lectura. 


228 


FIFTH    READEK. 


13.     OLIVER   WENDELL   HOLMES. 

1.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  was  born  in  Cambridge, 
Mass.,  in  1809,  in  tlie  old  gambrel-roof  house  still  stand- 
ing near  the  colleges,  in  which  the  fortifying  of  Bunker 
HiU  was  ordered.  The  first  verses  that  made  Holmes 
known,  the  lines  to  Old  Ironsides,  the  frigate  Constitu- 
tion, were  written  in  the  attic  of  this  old  house  when 
the  poet  was  twenty  years  old. 

2.  After  his  graduation  at  Harvard,  he  pursued  his 
medical  studies  in  Europe,  and  after  his  return  was 
chosen  Professor  of  Anatomy  at  Harvard,  a  position 
which  he  resigned  in  1882  after  having  discharged  the 
duties  for  thirty-five  years.  He  intends  to  devote  tjie 
remainder  of  his  life  to  literature. 


FIFTH    READER.  229 

3.  The  first  thought  that  strikes  us  in  Hobnes  is  the 
activity,  vigor,  and  fertility  of.  his  intellect.  His  wit  is 
keen,  flashing,  inexhaustible.  His  humor  is  of  the  rarest 
kind;  it  flows  from  a  most  genial  and  happy  nature. 
His  lyrical  poems  are  full  of  vigor  and  fire.  His  prose 
works,  the  ^'Breakfast-Table"  series,  consisting  of  three 
separate  volumes:  "The  Autocrat,''  "The  Professor,"  and 
"  The  Poet — at  the  Breakfast-Table,"  are  brilliant,  witty, 
and  wise,  and  are  interspersed  with  some  of  his  most 
beautiful  poems. 

4  The  reader  is  referred  to  "My  Aunt,"  "The  Last 
Leaf,"  "  The  School-Boy,"  "  Contentment,"  "  Birthday  of 
Daniel  Webster,"  "The  Old  Man  of  the  Sea,"  "Aunt 
Tabitha,"  "Bill  and  Joe,"  "The  Smiling  Listener,"  "The 
Iron  Gate,"  "How  the  Old  Horse  Won  the  Bet,"  and 
"  Under  the  Violets." 


14.     MANNERS. 

1.  N'otliing  so  vulgar  as  to  he  in  a  hurry. — True,  but 
hard  of  application.  People  with  short  legs  step  quickly, 
because  legs  are  pendulums,  and  swing  more  times  in 
a  minute  the  shorter  they  are.  Generally,  a  natural 
rhythm  runs  through  the  whole  organization:  quick 
pulse,  fast  breathing,  hasty  speech,  rapid  trains  of 
thought,  excitable  temper.  Stillness  of  person  and 
steadiness  of  features  are  signal  marks  of  good-breeding. 
Vulgar  persons  can't  sit  still,  or,  at  least,  they  must 
work  their  limbs  or  features. 

2.  Talking  of  on^s  own  ails  and  grievances. — Bad 
enough,  but  not  so  bad  as  insulting  the  person  you 
talk  with  by  remarking  on  his  ill-looks,  or  appearing 
to  notice  any  of  his  personal  peculiarities. 

3.  Apologizing. — A  very  desperate  habit, — one  that  is 
rarely  cured.    Apology  is  only  egotism  wrong  side  out. 


230  FIFTH    READER. 

Nine  times  out  of  ten,  the  first  thing  a  man^s  companion 
knows  of  his  shortcoming  is  from  his  apology.  It  is 
mighty  presumptuous  on  your  part  to  suppose  your 
small  failures  of  so  much  consequence  that  you  must 
make  a  talk  about  them. 

4.  Good  dressing,  quiet  ways,  low  tones  of  voice,  lips 
that  can  wait,  and  eyes  that  do  not  wander, — shyness 
of  personalities,  except  in  certain  intimate  communions, 
— to  be  light  in  hand  in  conversation,  to  have  ideas, 
but  to  be  able  to  make  talk,  if  necessary,  without  them, 
— to  belong  to  the  company  you  are  in,  and  not  to 
yourself, — to  have  nothing  in  your  dress  or  furniture 
so  fine  that  you  cannot  afford  to  spoil  it  and  get  another 
like  it,  yet  to  preserve  the  harmonies  throughout  your 
person  and  dwelling:  I  should  say  that  this  was  a  fair 
capital  of  manners  to  begin  with. 

From  Holmes'  Professor  at  the  Breahfast-Tahle. 

Supplementary  Eeading.  Read  to  the  class,  or  allow  pupils  to 
read  in  class,  the  following  poems  by  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes:  "Grand- 
mother's Story  of  Bunker  Hill  Battle,"  "  The  Deacon's  Masterpiece,"  and 
"The  Boys." 

Recommend  to  your  pupils  to  draw  from  the  library  and  read  "The 
Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast-Table,"  and  the  "Professor  at  the  Breakfast- 
Table." 


15.     THE    CHAMBERED    NAUTILUS. 

1. 

This  is  the  ship  of  pearl,  which,  poets  feign, 

Sails  the  unshadowed  main — 

The  venturous  bark  that  flings 
On  the  sweet  summer  wind  its  purpled  wings 
In  gulfs  enchanted,  where  the  siren  sings, 

And  coral  reefs  lie  bare, 
Where  the  cold  sea-maids  rise  to  sun  their  streaming  hair. 


FIFTH    READER.  231 

2. 

Its  webs  of  living  gauze  no  more  unfurl; 

Wrecked  is  the  ship  of  pearl! 

And  every  chambered  cell, 
Where  its  dim  dreaming  life  was  wont  to  dwell, 
As  the  frail  tenant  shaped  its  growing  shell, 

Before  thee  lies  revealed — 
Its  irised  ceiling  rent,  its  sunless  crypt  unsealed! 

3. 

Year  after  year  beheld  the  silent  toil 

That  spread  his  lustrous  coilj 

StiU,  as  the  spiral  grew. 
He  left  the  past  year's  dwelling  for  the  new, 
Stole  with  soft  step  its  shining  archway  through, 

Built  up  its  idle  door. 
Stretched  in  its  last-found  home,  and  knew  the  old  no  more> 

4. 

Thanks  for  the  heavenly  message  brought  by  thee, 

Child  of  the  wandering  sea. 

Cast  from  her  lap  forlorn! 
From  thy  dead  lips  a  clearer  note  is  bom 
Than  ever  Triton  blew  from  wreathed  horn ! 
Through  the  deep  caves  of  thought  I  hear  a  voice  that 
sings — 

5. 
Budd  thee  more  stately  mansions,  O  my  soul. 

As  the  swift  seasons  roll! 

Leave  thy  low-vaulted  past! 
Let  each  new  temple,  nobler  than  the  last, 
Shut  thee  from  heaven  with  a  dome  more  vast, 

Till  thou  at  length  art  free, 
Leaving  thine  outgrown  shell  by  life's  unresting  sea! 

Oliver  Wendell  Uolmes. 


232  FIFTH    READER. 

16.     GOOD   NEWS. 
This  poem  affords  a  good  illustration  of  fast  movement  or  rate, 

1. 

I  sprang  to  the  stirrup,  and  Joris,  and  he; 

I  galloped,  Direk  galloped,  we  galloped  all  three; 

^'  Good  speed ! "  cried  the  watch,  as  the  gate-bolts  nndrew ; 

^' Speed!"  echoed  the  wall  to  us  galloping  through;    . 

Behind  shut  the  postern,  the  hghts  sank  to  rest, 

And  into  the  midnight  we  galloped  abreast. 

2. 

Not  a  word  to  each  other;   we  kept  the  great  pace, 
Neck  by  neck,  stride  by  stride,  never  changing  our  place ; 
I  turned  in  my  saddle,  and  made  its  girths  tight, 
Then  shortened  each  stirrup,  and  set  the  pique  right, 
Rebuckled  the  check-strap,  chained  slacker  the  bit, 
Nor  galloped  less  steadily  Roland  a  whit. 

3. 
Twas  moonset  at  starting;  but,  while  we  drew  near 
Lokeren,  the  cocks  crew  and  twilight  dawned  clear; 
At  Boom,  a  great  yellow  star  came  out  to  see; 
At  Duff  eld,  'twas  morning  as  plain  as  could  be; 
And  from  Mecheln  church-steeple  we  heard  the  half -chime, 
So  Joris  broke  silence  with,  "  Yet  there  is  time ! " 

4. 

At  Aerschot,  up  leaped  of  a  sudden  the  sun. 
And  against  him  the  cattle  stood  black  every  one. 
To  stare  through  the  mist  at  us  galloping  past, 
And  I  saw  my  stout  galloper,  Roland,  at  last, 
With  resolute  shoulders  each  butting  away 
The  haze,  as  some  bluff  river  headland  its  spray; 


FIFTH    READER.  233 

5. 

And  his  low  head  and  crest,  just  one  sharp  ear  bent  back 
For  my  voice,  and  the  other  pricked  out  on  his  track; 
And  one  eye's  black  intelligence, — ever  that  glance 
O'er  its  white  edge  at  me,  his  own  master,  askance! 
And  the  thick  heavy  spume-flakes  which  aye  and  anon 
EQs  fierce  lips  shook  upwards  in  galloping  on. 

6. 
By  Hasselt,  Dirck  groaned;  and  cried  Joris,  "Stay  spur! 
Your  Roos  galloped  bravely,  the  fault's  not  in  her. 
We  '11  remember  at  Aix," — ^f  or  one  heard  the  quick  wheeze 
Of  her  chest,  saw  the  stretched  neck,  and  staggering  knees, 
And  sunk  tail,  and  horrible  heave  of  the  flank. 
As  down  on  her  haunches  she  shuddered  and  sank. 

7. 

So  we  were  left  galloping,  Joris  and  I, 

Past  Loos  and  past  Tongres,  no  cloud  in  the  sky; 

The  broad  sun  above  laughed  a  pitiless  laugh; 

'Neath  our  feet  broke  the  brittle,  bright  stubble  hke  chaff; 

Till  over  by  Dalhem  a  dome-tower  sprang  white, 

And  "Gallop,"  cried  Joris,  "for  Aix  is  in  sight!" 

8. 
"How  they'll  greet  us!"  and  all  in  a  moment  his  roan 
Rolled  neck  and  croup  over,  lay  dead  as  a  stone; 
And  there  was  my  Roland  to  bear  the  whole  weight 
Of  the  news  which  alone  could  save  Aix  from  her  fate. 
With  his  nostrils  like  pits  full  of  blood  to  the  brim, 
And  with  circles  of  red  for  eye-sockets'  rim. 

9. 
Then  I  cast  loose  my  buff-coat,  each  holster  let  fall. 
Shook  off  both  my  jack-boots,  let  go  belt  and  aU, 
Stood  up  in  the  stirrup,  leaned,  patted  his  ear, 
Called  my  Roland  his  pet  name,  my  horse  without  peer; — 


234  FIFTH    READER. 

Clapped  my  hands,  laughed  and  sang,  any  noise,  bad  or 

good, 
Till  at  length  into  Aix  Roland  galloped,  and  stood. 

10. 
And  all  I  remember  is  friends  flocking  ronnd, 
As  I  sate  with  his  head  'twixt  my  knees  on  the  ground; 
And  no  voice  but  was  praising  this  Roland  of  mine, 
As  I  poured  down  his  throat  our  last  measure  of  wine. 
Which  (the  burgesses  voted  by  common  consent) 
Was  no  more  than  his  due  who  brought  good  news  from 
Ghent. 

Robert  Browning. 


17.     THE  REIG-N  OF  QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 

1.  The  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  (1558-1603),  was  a 
glorious  one.  It  is  made  memorable  by  the  distinguished 
men  that  flourished  in  it.  Apart  from  the  great  voyagers, 
statesmen,  and  scholars,  whom  it  produced,  the  names  of 
Bacon,  Spenser,  and  Shakespeare  will  always  be  remem- 
bered with  pride  and  veneration  by  the  civilized  world, 
and  will  always  impart  some  portion  of  their  luster  to 
the  name  of  Ehzabeth  herself. 

2.  It  was  a  great  reign  for  discovery,  for  commerce, 
and  for  English  enterprise  and  spirit  in  general.  The 
Queen  was  very  popular,  and,  in  her  journeys  about 
her  dominions,  was  received  with  the  liveliest  joy. 

3.  I  think  the  truth  is  she  was  not  half  so  good  as 
she  has  been  made  out  by  some,  and  not  half  so  bad 
as  she  has  been  made  out  by  others.  She  had  many 
fine  qualities,  but  she  was  coarse,  vain,  capricious,  and 
treacherous. 

Adapted  from  Dickens's  Child's  History  of  England, 

Composition.  Close  the  book,  and  write  all  you  can  remember  about 
Queen  Elizabeth. 


FIFTH    READER.  235 


18.     THE   WHITE-HEADED   EAGLE. 

1.  Formed  by  nature  to  brave  the  severest  cold; 
feeding  equally  on  the  produce  of  the  sea  and  of  the 
land;  possessing  powers  of  flight  capable  of  outstripping 
even  the  tempests  themselves;  unawed  by  any  thing 
but  man;  and,  from  the  ethereal  heights  to  which  he 
soars,  looking  abroad,  at  one  glance,  on  an  immeasurable 
expanse  of  forests,  fields^  lakes,  and  ocean  below  him, 
the  white-headed  eagle  appears  indifferent  to  the  change 
of  seasons,  as,  in  a  few  minutes,  he  can  pass  from 
summer  to  winter,  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  regions 
of  the  atmosphere, — the  abode  of  eternal  cold, — and 
thence  descend,  at  will,  to  the  torrid,  or  to  the  Arctic 
regions  of  the  earth.  He  is,  therefore,  found  at  aR 
seasons  in  the  countries  he  inhabits,  but  from  the  great 
partiality  he  has  for  fish,  he  prefers  to  hve  near  the  ocean. 

2.  In  procuring  fish,  he  displays,  in  a  very  singular 
manner,  the  genius  and  energy  of  his  character,  which 
is  fierce,  contemplative,  daring,  and  tyrannical; — attri- 
butes exerted  only  on  particular  occasions,  but,  when 
put  forth,  overpowering  aU  opposition.  Elevated  on  the 
high  dead  limb  of  some  gigantic  tree  that  commands  a 
wide  view  of  the  neighboring  shore  and  ocean,  he  seems 
calmly  to  contemplate  the  motions  of  the  various  feath- 
ered tribes  that  pursue  their  busy  vocations  below, — 
the  snow-white  gulls  slowly  winnowing  the  air;  the 
busy  shore-birds,  coursing  along  the  sands;  trains  of 
ducks,  streaming  over  the  surface;  silent  and  watchful 
cranes,  intent  and  wading;  clamorous  crows,  and  aU 
the  winged  multitudes  that  subsist  by  the  bounty  of 
this  vast  liquid  magazine  of  Nature. 

3.  High  over  aU  these  hovers  one  whose  action  in- 
'stantly  arrests  his  whole  attention.  By  his  wide  curva- 
ture of  wing,  and  sudden  suspension  in  air,  he  knows 


236  FIFTH    READER. 

him  to  be  the  fish-hawk,  settling  over  some  devoted 
victim  of  the  deep.  His  eye  kindles  at  the  sight,  and, 
balancing  himself,  with  half -opened  wings,  on  the  branch, 
he  watches  the  result. 

4.  Down,  rapid  as  an  arrow  from  heaven,  descends 
the  distant  object  of  his  attention,  the  roar  of  its  wings 
reaching  the  ear  as  it  disappears  in  the  deep,  making 
the  surges  foam  around.  At  this  moment  the  watchful 
eagle  is  all  ardor;  and,  leveling  his  neck  for  flight,  he 
sees  the  fish-hawk  emerge,  struggling  with  his  prey,  and 
mounting  in  the  air  with  screams  of  exultation. 

5.  These  are  the  signal  for  our  hero,  who,  launching 
into  the  air,  instantly  gives  chase,  and  soon  gains  on 
the  fish-hawk.  Each  exerts  his  utmost  to  mount  above 
the  other,  displaying  in  these  rencounters  the  most  ele- 
gant and  sublime  aerial  evolutions.  The  unencumbered 
eagle  rapidly  advances,  and  is  just  on  the  point  of  reach- 
ing his  opponent,  when,  with  a  sudden  scream,  probably 
of  despair  and  honest  execration,  the  latter  di'ops  his 
fish;  the  eagle,  poising  himself  for  a  moment,  as  if  to 
take  a  more  certain  aim,  descends  like  a  whirlwind, 
snatches  it  in  his  grasp  ere  it  reaches  the  water,  and 
bears  his  ill-gotten  booty  silently  away  to  the  woods. 

Alexander  Wilson, 
DEFINITIONS. 


at'tri  butes,  qualities. 

a  e'ri  al,  having  its  place  in  the 

air. 
e  merge'',  to  rise  up  out  of. 
ev  0  lu'tions,  regular  and  orderly 

movements. 


ex  e  cra'tion,  a  curse. 

e  they're  al,  pertaining  to  the  thin 

upper  air. 
pois'lng,  balancing, 
ren  coun'ters,  combats, 
vo  captions,  occupations. 


4 

WBITTEN    SPEIXING.-SYNONYMS. 

Write  a  synonym  for  each  of  the  following  ivords: 
surpass          disgrace          disperse          abbreviate 
select              docile               tenacity          conversation 
remain            avoid               insipid            aqueous 

FIFTH    READER.  237 


19.     SANTA   FILOMENA. 

Written  in  honor  of  Florence  Nightingale,  the  philanthropist.  Read 
this  poem  in  the  class  and  tlien  require  the  girls  of  the  class  to  memorize 
it  for  recitation. 

1.  Whene'er  a  noble  deed  is  wrought, 
Whene'er  is  spoken  a  noble  thought, 

Our  hearts,  in  glad  surprise,. 
To  higher  levels  rise. 

2.  The  tidal  wave  of  deeper  souls 
Into  our  inmost  being  rolls, 

And  lifts  us  unawares 
Out  of  all  meaner  cares. 

3.  Honor  to  those  whose  words  or  deeds 
Thus  help  us  in  our  daily  needs. 

And  by  their  overflow 
Raise  us  from  what  is  low! 

4.  Thus  thought  I,  as  by  night  I  read 
Of  the  great  army  of  the  dead. 

The  trenches  cold  and  damp. 
The  starved  and  frozen  camp, — 

5.  The  wounded  from  the  battle-plain 
In  dreary  hospitals  of  pain, 

The  cheerless  corridors, 
The  cold  and  stony  floors. 

6.  Lo  !   in  that  house  of  misery, 
A  lady  with  a  lamp  I  see 

Pass  through  the  glimmering  gloom, 
And  flit  from  room  to  room. 

7.  And  slow,  as  in  a  dream  of  bhss. 
The  speechless  sufferer  turns  to  kiss 


238  FIFTH    READER. 

Her  shadow,  as  it  falls 
Upon  the  darkening  walls. 

8.  As  if  a  door  in  heaven  should  be 
Opened  and  then  closed  suddenly, 

The  vision  came  and  went, 
The  light  shone  and  was  spent. 

9.  On  England's  annals,  through  the  long 
Hereafter  of  her  speech  and  song, 

That  light  its  rays  shall  cast 
From  portals  of  the  past. 

10.  A  Lady  with  a  Lamp  shall  stand 
In  the  great  histoiy  of  the  land, 

A  noble  type  of  good, 
Heroic  womanhood. 

11.  Nor  even  shall  be  wanting  here 
The  pabn,  the  lily,  and  the  spear: 

The  symbols  that  of  yore 
Santa  Filomena  bore. 

Longfellow. 


20.     THE   FOURTH   OF   JULY. 

To  he  marked  hy  the  class,  under  the  direction  of  the  teacher,  for 
emphasis,  patises,  and  inflections;  then  to  be  memorised  by  the  boys 
of  the  class  for  declamation, 

1.  On  the  Fourth  of  July,  1776,  the  representatives 
of  the  United  States  of  America,  in  Congress  assembled, 
declared  that  these  United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right 
ought  to  be,  free  and  independent  States.  This  decla- 
ration, made  by  most  patriotic  and  resolute  men,  trust- 
ing in  the  justice  of  their  cause,  and  the  protection  of 


FIFTH    READER.  239 

Providence — and   yet   not  without  deep   solicitude  and 
anxiety — has  stood  for  seventy-five  years,  and  still  stands. 

2.  It  was  sealed  in  blood.  It  has  met  dangers  and 
overcome  them;  it  has  had  enemies,  and  it  has  con- 
quered them;  it  has  had  detractors,  and  it  has  abashed 
them  all;  it  has  had  doubting  friends,  but  it  has  cleared 
all  doubts  away;  and  now,  to-day,  raising  its  august 
form  higher  than  the  clouds,  twenty  millions  of  people 
contemplate  it  with  hallowed  love;  and  the  world  beholds 
it,  and  the  consequences  which  have  followed,  with  pro- 
found admiration. 

3.  This  anniversary  animates,  and  gladdens,  and  unites 
all  American  hearts.  On  other  days  of  the  year  we  may 
be  party  men,  indulging  in  controversies  more  or  less 
important  to  the  public  good;  we  may  have  likes  and 
dislikes,  and  we  may  maintain  our  political  differences 
often  with  warm,  and  sometimes  with  angry  feehngs. 
But  to-day  we  are  Americans  all  in  all,  nothing  but 
Americans. 

4.  As  the  great  luminary  over  our  heads,  dissipating 
mists  and  fogs,  cheers  the  whole  hemisphere,  so  do  the 
associations  connected  with  this  day  disperse  aU  cloudy 
and  sullen  weather,  and  all  noxious  exhalations  in  the 
minds  and  feelings  of  true  Americans.  Every  man's 
heart  swells  within  him; — every  man's  port  and  bearing 
become  somewhat  more  proud  and  lofty,  as  he  remem- 
bers that  seventy-five  years  have  roUed  away,  and  that 
the  great  inlieritance  of  hberty  is  still  his;  his,  undi- 
minished and  unimpaired;  his,  in  aU  its  original  glory; 
his  to  enjoy,  his  to  protect,  and  his  to  transmit  to  future 
generations. 


de  tracfors,  slanderers, 
dis'si  pate,  scatter, 
august',  awful;  majestic. 
ex  ha  la'tions,  vapors. 


Daniel  Webstee. 
DEFINITIONS. 

lu'mi  na  ry,    a    body    that   gives 

light, 
noz^ious,  poisonous, 
trans  mif,  hand  down. 


240  FIFTH    READER. 


21.     DOGS   AND   MASTERS. 

1.  Probably  the  most  forlorn  and  abject  creature  to 
be  seen  on  the  face  of  the  earth  is  a  masterless  dog. 
Slouching  and  slinking  along,  cringing  to  every  human 
being  it  chances  to  meet,  running  away,  with  its  tail 
between  its  legs,  from  smaller  dogs  whom  under  other 
circumstances  it  would  accost  .with  a  gruff  who-are-you 
sort  of  growl — it  forms  the  very  picture  of  utter  hu- 
miliation and  self-abasement. 

2.  Grip  and  I  have  just  come  across  such  a  lost 
specimen  of  stray  doghood,  trying  to  find  his  way 
back  to  his  home  across  the  fields.  I  fancy  he  belongs 
to  a  traveling  show  which  left  the  village  yesterday, 
and  it  is  quite  refreshing  to  watch  the  air  of  superior 
wisdom  and  calm  but  mute  compassionateness  mth 
which  Grip  casts  his  eye  sidelong  upon  that  wretched 
masterless  vagrant,  and  passes  him  without  even  a  nod. 

3.  He  looks  up  to  me  complacently  as  he  trots  along 
by  my  side,  and  seems  to  say  with  his  eye,  "  Poor  f eUow ! 
he 's  lost  his  master,  you  know — careless  dog  that  he  is ! " 
I  believe  the  lesson  has  had  a  good  moral  effect  upon 
Grip's  own  conduct,  too  5  for  he  has  now  spent  ten  whole 
minutes  well  within  my  sight,  and  has  resisted  the  most 
tempting  solicitations  to  ratting  and  rabbiting  held  out 
by  half  a  dozen  holes  and  burrows  in  the  hedge-waU, 
as  we  go  along. 

4.  This  total  dependence  of  dogs  upon  a  master  is 
a  very  interesting  example  of  the  growth  of  inherited 
instincts.  The  original  dog,  who  was  a  wolf,  or  some- 
thing very  like  it,  could  not  have  had  any  such  arti- 
ficial f  eehng.  He  was  an  independent,  seK-rehant  animal, 
quite  well  able  to  look  after  himself  on  the  boundless 
plains  of  Central  Europe  or  liigh  Asia. 

5.  But  at  least  as  early  as  the  days  of  the  Danish 


FIFTH    READER.  241 

shell-mounds,  perhaps  thousands  of  years  earlier,  man 
had  learned  to  tame  the  dog  and  to  employ  him  as  a 
friend  or  servant  for  his  own  purposes.  Those  dogs 
which  best  served  the  ends  of  man  were  preserved  and 
increased;  those  which  followed  too  much  their  own 
original  instincts  were  destroyed  or  at  least  discouraged. 

6.  The  savage  hunter  would  be  very  apt  to  fling  his 
stone  ax  at  the  skull  of  a  hound  that  tried  to  eat 
the  game  he  had  brought  down  with  his  flint-tipped 
arrow,  instead  of  retrieving  it:  he  would  be  most  likely 
to  keep  carefully  and  feed  well,  on  the  refuse  of  his  own 
meals,  the  hound  which  aided  him  most  in  surprising, 
killing,  and  securing  his  quarry.  Thus  there  sprang  up 
between  man  and  the  dog  a  mutual  and  ever-increasing 
s^Tnpathy  which  on  the  part  of  the  dependent  creature 
has  at  last  become  organized  into  an  inherited  instinct. 

7.  If  we  could  only  thread  the  labyrinth  of  a  dog's 
brain,  we  should  find  somewhere  in  it  a  group  of  cor- 
related nerve-connections  answering  to  this  universal 
habit  of  his  race;  and  the  group  in  question  would  be 
quite  without  any  analogous  mechanism  in  the  brain  of 
the  ancestral  woE.  As  truly  as  the  wing  of  the  bird 
is  adapted  to  its  congenital  instinct  of  flying;  as  truly 
as  the  nervous  system  of  the  bee  is  adapted  to  its  con- 
genital instinct  of  honeycomb  building,  just  so  truly  is 
the  brain  of  the  dog  adapted  to  its  now  congenital 
instinct  of  following  and  obeying  a  master. 

8.  The  habit  of  attaching  itself  to  a  particular  human 
being  is  nowadays  ingrained  in  the  nerves  of  the  modem 
dog  just  as  really,  though  not  quite  so  deeply,  as  the 
habit  of  running  or  biting  is  ingrained  in  its  bones  and 
muscles.  Every  dog  is  bom  into  the  world  with  a 
certain  inherited  structure  of  hmbs,  sense-organs,  and 
brain ;  and  this  inherited  structure  governs  all  its  future 
actions,  both  bodily  and  mental.  It  seeks  a  master 
because  it  is  endowed  with  master-seeking  brain  organs; 

5-16 


242  FIFTH    READER. 

it  is   dissatisfied    until   it  finds  one,  because   its   native 
functions  can  have  free  play  in  no  other  way. 

9.  Among  a  few  dogs,  like  those  of  Constantinople, 
the  instinct  may  have  died  out  by  disuse,  as  the  eyes 
of  cave  animals  are  atrophied  for  want  of  hght;  but 
when  a  dog  has  been  brought  up  from  puppyhood  under 
a  master,  the  instinct  is  fully  and  freely  developed,  and 
the  masterless  condition  is  thenceforth  for  him  a  thwart- 
ing and  disappointing  of  all  his  natural  feehngs  and 
affections. 

10.  Not  only  have  dogs  as  a  class  acquired  a  special 
instinct  with  regard  to  humanity  generally,  but  particular 
breeds  of  dogs  have  acquired  particular  instincts  mth 
regard  to  certain  individual  acts.  Nobody  doubts  that 
the  muscles  of  a  greyhound  are  specially  correlated  to 
the  acts  of  running  and  leaping-  or  that  the  muscles  of 
a  bulldog  are  specially  correlated  to  the  act  of  fighting. 
The  whole  external  form  of  these  creatures  has  been  mod- 
ified by  man's  selective  action  for  a  dehberate  purpose: 
we  breed,  as  we  say,  from  the  dog  with  the  best  points. 

11.  But  besides  being  able  to  modify  the  visible  and 
outer  structure  of  the  animal,  we  are  also  able  to  mod- 
ify, by  indirect  indications,  the  hidden  and  inner  struc- 
ture of  the  brain.  We  choose  the  best  ratter  among 
our  terriers,  the  best  pointer,  retriever,  or  setter  among 
other  breeds,  to  become  the  parents  of  our  future  stock. 
"We  thus,  half  unconsciously,  select  particular  types  of 
nervous  system  in  preference  to  others. 

12.  Now,  everybody  knows  that  you  cannot  teach  one 
sort  of  dog  the  kind  of  tricks  which  come  by  instinct 
to  a  different  sort.  No  amount  of  instruction  will  induce 
a  well-bred  terrier  to  retrieve  your  handkerchief:  he 
insists  upon  worrying  it  instead.  So  no  amount  of 
instruction  will  induce  a  well-bred  retriever  to  worry  a 
rat:  he  brings  it  gingerly  to  your  feet,  as  if  it  was  a 
dead  partridge. 


FIFTH    READER.  243 

13.  The  reason  is  obvious,  because  no  one  would  breed 
from  a  retriever  which  worried,  or  from  a  terrier  which 
treated  its  natural  prey  as  if  it  were  a  stick.  Thus 
the  brain  of  each  kind  is  hereditarily  supplied  with 
certain  nervous  connections  wanting  in  the  brain  of 
other  kinds.  We  need  no  more  doubt  the  reality  of  the 
material  distinction  in  the  brain  than  we  need  doubt  it 
in  the  limbs  and  jaws  of  the  greyhound  and  the  bulldog. 

Grant  Allen. 


22.     ORIENT   YOURSELF. 

1.  The  Germans  and  the  French  have  a  beautiful  phrase 
which  would  enrich  any  language  that  should  adopt  it. 
They  say:    "To  orient ;^^  or,  "To  orient  one^s  self" 

2.  "When  a  traveler  arrives  at  a  strange  city,  or  is 
overtaken  by  night  or  by  a  storm,  he  takes  out  his 
compass  and  learns  which  way  is  the  East,  or  Orient. 
Forthwith  all  the  cardinal  points — east,  west,  north, 
south — take  their  true  places  in  his  mind,  and  he  is  in 
no  danger  of  seeking  for  the  sunset  or  the  pole-star  in 
the  wrong  quarter  of  the  heavens.    He  orients  himself. 

3.  When  commanders  of  armies  approach  each  other 
for  the  battle,  on  which  the  fate  of  empires  may  depend, 
each  learns  the  localities  of  the  ground, — how  best  he 
can  entrench  his  front  or  cover  his  flank  j  how  best  he 
can  make  a  sally  or  repel  an  assault.   He  orients  himself. 

4.  When  a  statesman  revolves  some  mighty  scheme 
of  administrative  policy,  so  vast  as  to  comprehend  sur- 
rounding nations  and  later  times  in  its  ample  scope,  he 
takes  an  inventory  of  his  resources,  he  adapts  means  to 
ends,  he  adjusts  plans  and  movements  so  that  one  shall 
not  counterwork  another,  and  he  marshals  the  whole 
series  of  affairs  for  producing  the  grand  result.  He 
orients  himself. 


244  FIFTH    READER. 

5.  Young  man!  open  your  heart  before  me  for  one 
moment,  and  let  me  write  upon  it  these  parting  words. 
The  gracious  God  has  just  called  you  into  being;  and, 
during  the  few  years  you  have  lived,  the  greatest  lesson 
you  have  learned  is,  that  you  shall  never  die.  All  around 
your  body  the  earth  lies  open  and  free,  and  you  can  go 
where  you  will;  all  around  your  spirit  the  universe 
lies  open  and  free,  and  you  can  go  where  you  will. 
Orient  yourself!   Orient  Yourself! 

6.  Seek  frivolous  and  elusive  pleasures  if  you  will; 
expend  your  immortal  energies  upon  ignoble  and  fal- 
lacious joys;  but  know,  their  end  is  intellectual  imbecility, 
and  the  perishing  of  every  good  that  can  ennoble  or 
emparadise  the  human  heart.  Obey,  if  you  will,  the 
law  of  the  baser  passions, — appetite,  pride,  selfishness, 
— but  know,  they  will  scourge  you  into  realms  where 
the  air  is  hot  with  flery-tongued  scorpions,  that  will 
sting  and  torment  your  soul  into  unutterable  agonies. 

7.  But  study  and  obey  the  sublime  laws  on  which 
the  frame  of  nature  was  constructed;  study  and  obey 
the  sublimer  laws  on  which  the  soul  of  man  was 
formed;  and  the  fullness  of  the  power  and  the  wisdom 
and  the  blessedness,  with  which  God  has  filled  and 
lighted  up  this  resplendent  universe,  shall  all  be  yours. 

Horace  Mann. 


WRITTEN  SPEI.I.ING.— WORDS  OFTEN  3IISSPEI.I.EI>. 

Study  this  lesson  hy  writing  it  on  your  slate. 

dissyllable  taboo  occult  picnicking 

trisyllable  tattoo  ocular  frohcking 

chocolate  accrue  unroll  ophicleide 

bamboo  parole  stucco  sibylline 


When  you  write  this  from  dictation,  divide  each  word  into  syllables, 
mark  the  accented  syllable,  and  iise  diacritical  marks. 


FIFTH    READER. 


245 


23.     CHARLES   DICKENS. 


1.  Charles  Dickens,  one  of  the  greatest  of  English 
novehsts,  was  bom  at  Landport,  England,  in  1812.  He 
began  his  hterary  career  as  a  reporter  for  the  daily 
press  of  London.  His  first  work — "The  Pickwick  Pa- 
pers " — estabhshed  his  reputation  as  a  novelist,  and  made 
him  the  most  popular  writer  of  his  time.  He  died  in 
1870. 

2.  Begin  his  works  by  reading  his  "  Christmas  Carol,'' 
the  most  deUghtful  Christmas  story  ever  written;  next, 
take  up  "David  Copperfleld,"  "Nicholas  Nickleby,''  and, 
if  you  are  fond  of  humor,  "The  Pickwick  Papers." 

3.  Dickens  is  characterized  by  Whipple,  as  follows: 
"Dickens,  as  a  novelist  and  prose  poet,  is  to  be  classed 


246  FIFTH    READER. 

in  the  front  rank  of  the  noble  company  to  which  he 
belongs.  In  representing  life  and  character,  there  are 
two  characteristics  of  his  genius  which  startle  every 
reader  by  their  obviousness  and  power — his  humor  and 
pathos. 

4.  "He  seems  himself  to  be  taken  by  surprise  as  his 
glad  and  genial  fancies  throng  his  brain,  and  to  laugh 
and  exult  with  the  beings  he  has  called  into  existence, 
in  the  spirit  of  a  man  observing,  not  creating.  Squeers 
and  Pecksniff,  Simon  Tappertit  and  Mark  Tapley,  Tony 
Weller  and  old  John  Willet,  although  painted  with  such 
distinctness  that  we  seem  to  see  them  with  the  bodily 
eye,  we  still  feel  to  be  somewhat  overcharged  in  the 
description.  They  are  caricatured  more  in  appearance 
than  in  reality,  and  if  grotesque  in  form,  are  true  and 
natural  at  heart. 

5.  "Much  of  the  humor  of  Dickens  is  identical  with 
his  style.  In  this  the  afluence  of  his  fancy  in  sugges- 
tive phrases  and  epithets  is  finely  displayed;  and  he 
often  flashes  the  impression  of  a  character  or  a  scene 
upon  the  mind  by  a  few  graphic  verbal  combinations. 
When  Ralph  Nickleby  says  'God  bless  you'  to  his 
nephew,  the  words  stick  in  his  throat,  as  if  unused  to 
the  passage.  When  Tigg  clasped  Mr.  Pecksniff  in  the 
dark,  that  worthy  gentleman  'found  himself  coUared  by 
something  which  smelt  Hke  several  damp  umbrellas,  a 
barrel  of  beer,  a  cask  of  warm  brandy-and- water,  and 
a  small  parlorful  of  tobacco  smoke,  mixed.' 

6.  "Mrs.  Todgers,  when  she  desires  to  make  Ruth 
Pinch  know  her  station,  surveys  her  Avith  a  look  of 
'genteel  grimness.'  A  widow  of  a  deceased  brother  of 
Martin  Chuzzlewit  is  described  as  one  who,  'being 
almost  supernaturally  disagreeable,  and  having  a  dreary 
face,  a  bony  figure,  and  a  masculine  voice,  was,  in  right 
of  these  qualities,  called  a  strong-minded  woman.'  Mr. 
Richard  SwiveUer  no  sooner  enters  a  room  than  'the 


FIFTH    READER.  247 

nostrils  of  tho  company  are  sainted  by  a  strong  smell 
of  gin  and  lemon-peeL' 

7.  "Mr.  Jonas  Chuzzlewit,  a  person  who  overfed  him- 
self, is  sketched  as  a  gentleman  with  such  an  obvious 
disposition  to  pimples  that  'the  bright  spots  on  his 
cravat,  the  rich  pattern  of  his  waistcoat,  and  even  his 
ghttering  trinkets  seemed  to  have  broken  out  upon  him, 
and  not  to  have  come  into  existence  comfortably.'  Fe- 
licities like  these,  Dickens  squanders  with  a  prodigality 
which  reduces  their  relative  value,  and  makes  the  gen- 
erality of  style-mongers  poor  indeed. 

8.  "It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  Dickens  is  more 
successful  in  humor  or  pathos.  Many  prefer  his  serious 
to  his  comic  scenes.  It  is  certain  that  his  remarkable 
genius  can  as  readily  draw  tears  as  provoke  laughter. 
Sorrow,  want,  poverty,  pain,  and  death,  the  affections 
which  cling  to  earth  and  those  which  rise  above  it,  he 
represents  always  with  power,  and  often  with  marvel- 
ous skill." 


24.     A   SCHOOL   OF   FACTS. 

1.  "Now,  what  I  want  is  facts.  Teach  these  boys 
and  girls  nothing  but  facts.  Facts  alone  are  wanted  in 
life.  You  can  only  form  the  minds  of  reasoning  animals 
upon  facts:  nothing  else  will  ever  be  of  any  service  to 
them.  This  is  the  principle  on  which  I  bring  up  my 
own  children,  and  this  is  the  principle  on  which  I  bring 
up  these  cliildren.  Stick  to  facts,  sir!  In  this  life  we 
want  nothing  but  facts,  sirj   nothing  but  facts!" 

2.  The  speaker,  and  the  school-master,  and  the  third 
grown  person  present,  aU  backed  a  httle,  and  swept 
with  their  eyes  the  incHned  plane  of  httle  vessels  then 
and  there  arranged  in  order,  ready  to  have  gallons  of 
facts  poured  into  them  until  they  were  full  to  the  brim. 


248  FIFTH    READER. 

3.  Thomas  Gradgrind,  sir.  A  man  of  realities.  A 
man  of  facts  and  calculations.  A  man  who  proceeds 
upon  the  principle  that  two  and  two  are  four,  and  noth- 
ing over,  and  who  is  not  to  be  tallied  into  allowing  for 
any  thing  over.  Thomas  Gradgrind,  sir,  with  a  rule 
and  pair  of  scales,  and  the  multiphcation  table  always  in 
his  pocket,  sir,  ready  to  weigh  and  measure  any  parcel 
of  human  nature,  and  tell  you  exactly  what  it  comes  to. 

4.  It  is  a  mere  question  of  figures,  a  case  of  simple 
arithmetic.  You  might  hope  to  get  some  other  non- 
sensical belief  into  the  head  of  George  Gradgrind,  or 
August  Gradgrind,  or  John  Gradgrind,  or  Joseph  Grad- 
grind, but  into  the  head  of  Thomas  Gradgrind — no,  sir! 
Indeed,  he  seemed  a  kind  of  cannon  loaded  to  the  muzzle 
with  facts. 

5.  "  Girl  number  twenty,''  said  Mr.  Gradgrind,  squarely 
pointing  with  his  square  forefinger.  "I  don't  know 
that  girl.     Who  is  that  girl?" 

^^  Sissy  Jupe,  sir,"  explained  number  twenty,  blushing, 
standing  up,  and  courtesying. 

^^  Sissy  is  not  a  name,"  said  Mr.  Gradgrind.  "  Do  n  't 
call  yourself  Sissy.     CaU  yourself  Ceciha." 

"Father  calls  me  Sissy,  sir,"  returned  the  young  girl 
in  a  trembhng  voice,  and  with  another  courtesy. 

6.  "  Then  he  has  no  business  to  do  it,"  said  Mr.  Grad- 
grind. "Tell  him  he  mustn't.  Ceciha  Jupe.  Let  me 
see.     What  is  your  father?" 

"He  belongs  to  the  horse-riding,  if  you  please,  sir." 

Mr.  Gradgrind  frowned,  and  waved  off  the  objection- 
able calling  with  liis  hand. 

"We  don't  want  to  know  anything  about  that,  here. 
You  mustn't  teU  us  about  that,  here.  Your  father 
breaks  horses,  don't  he?" 

"If  you  please,  sir,  when  they  can  get  any  to  break, 
they  do  break  horses  in  the  ring,  sir." 

7.  "  You  must  n't  teU  us  about  the  ring,  here.    Very 


FIFTH    READER.  249 

well,  then.  Describe  your  father  as  a  horse-breaker. 
He  doctors  sick  horses,  I  dare  say.^^ 

"  O  yes,  sir !  " 

"Very  well,  then.  He  is  a  veterinary  surgeon,  a 
farrier,  and  horse-breaker.  Give  me  your  definition  of 
a  horse."  Sissy  Jupe  was  thrown  into  the  greatest  alarm 
by  this  demand. 

8.  "  Girl  number  twenty  unable  to  define  a  horse ! " 
said  Mr.  Gradgrind.  "Girl  number  twenty  possessed 
of  no  facts,  in  reference  to  one  of  the  commonest  of 
animals !  Some  boy's  definition  of  a  horse. — Bitzer, 
yours." 

The  square  finger,  moving  here  and  there,  lighted 
suddenly  on  Bitzer,  perhaps  because  he  chanced  to  sit 
in  the  same  ray  of  sunlight  which  irradiated  Sissy. 

"Bitzer,"  said  Thomas  Gradgrind,  "your  definition  of 
a  horse." 

9.  "  Quadruped.  Graminivorous.  Forty  teeth,  namely, 
twenty-four  grinders,  four  eye-teeth,  and  twelve  incisors. 
Sheds  coat  in  the  spring,-  in  marshy  countries  sheds 
hoofs  too.  Hoofs  hard,  but  requiring  to  be  shod  with 
iron.     Age  known  by  marks  in  the  mouth." 

"  Now,  girl  number  twenty,"  said  Mr.  Gradgrind,  "  you 
know  what  a  horse  is." 

She  courtesied  again,  and  would  have  blushed  deeper, 
if  she  could  have  blushed  deeper  than  she  had  blushed 
all  this  time. 

10.  The  third  gentleman  now  stepped  forth.  A  mighty 
man  at  cutting  and  drying,  he  was;  a  government 
officer;  always  in  training,  always  with  a  system  to 
force  down  the  general  throat,  always  to  be  heard  of 
at  the  bar  of  his  httle  public  office. 

"Very  well,"  said  this  gentleman  briskly,  smihng  and 
folding  his  arms.  "That's  a  horse.  Now,  let  me  ask 
you,  girls  and  boys.  Would  you  paper  a  room  with 
representations  of  horses?" 


250  FIFTH   READER. 

11.  After  a  pause,  one-half  of  the  children  cried  in 
chorus,  "Yes,  sir!"  upon  which  the  other  haK,  seeing 
in  the  gentleman's  face  that  "yes"  was  wrong,  cried 
out  in  chorus,  "  No,  sir ! " — as  the  custom  is  in  these 
examinations.     "Of  course  not.    Why  wouldn't  you?" 

A  pause.  One  corpulent,  slow  boy,  with  a  wheezy 
manner  of  breathing,  ventured  to  answer,  "Because  I 
wouldn't  paper  a  room  at  all,  I'd  paint  it." 

12.  "You  must  paper  it,"  said  the  gentleman,  rather 
warmly. 

"Yes,  you  must  paper  it,"  said  Thomas  Gradgrind, 
"  whether  you  hke  it  or  not.  Don 't  teU  us  you  wouldn't 
paper  it.     What  do  you  mean,  boy?" 

"  I  'U  explain  to  you,  then,"  said  the  gentleman,  after 
a  dismal  pause,  "why  you  wouldn't  paper  a  room  with 
representations  of  horses.  Do  you  ever  see  horses  walk- 
ing up  and  down  the  sides  of  rooms  in  reahty, — ^in  fact? 
Do  you?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  from  one  half.    "No,  sir,"  from  the  other. 

13.  "Of  course  not,"  said  the  gentleman,  with  an 
indignant  look  at  the  wrong  half.  "Why,  then,  you 
are  not  to  see  anywhere  what  you  don't  see  in  factj 
you  are  not  to  have  anywhere  what  you  don't  have 
in  fact.  What  is  called  taste  is  only  another  name  for 
fact.  This  is  a  new  principle,  a  discovery,  a  great  dis- 
covery," said  the  gentleman.  "Now,  I'U  try  you  again. 
Suppose  you  were  going  to  carpet  a  room,  would  you 
use  a  carpet  having  a  representation  of  flowers  upon  it  ? " 

14.  There  being  a  general  conviction  by  this  time  that 
"No,  sir,"  was  always  the  right  answer  to  this  gentle- 
man, the  chorus  of  "no"  was  very  strong.  Only  a  few 
feeble  stragglers  said  "  yes ; "  among  them  Sissy  Jupe. 

"Girl  number  twenty,"  said  the  gentleman,  smiling, 
in  the  calm  strength  of  knowledge. 
Sissy  blushed,  and  stood  up. 
"  So  you  would  carpet  your  room  with  representations 


FIFTH    READER.  251 

of  flowers,   would  you?"   said  the    gentleman.      "Wliy 
would  you?" 

^^If  you  please,  sir,  I  am  very  fond  of  flowers,"  re- 
turned the  girl, 

15.  "  And  is  that  why  you  would  put  tables  and  chairs 
upon  them,  and  have  people  walking  over  them  with 
heav>'  boots?" 

"It  wouldn't  hurt  them,  sir.  They  wouldn't  crush 
and  wither,  if  you  please,  sir.  They  would  be  the 
pictures  of  what  was  very  pretty  and  pleasant,  and  I 
would  fancy" — 

"Ay,  ay,  ay!  but  you  mustn't  fancy,"  cjied  the  gen- 
tleman,  quite  elated  by  coming  so  happily  to  his  point. 
"That's  it!     You  are  never  to  fancy." 

"You  are  not,  Cecilia  Jupe,"  Thomas  Gradgrind  soL 
emnly  repeated,  "to  do  any  thing  of  that  kind." 

16.  "You  are  to  be  in  all  things  regulated  and  gov- 
erned," said  the  gentleman,  "  by  fact.  You  must  discard 
the  word  ^ fancy'  altogether.  You  have  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  You  don't  walk  upon  flowers  in  fact;  you 
cannot  be  allowed  to  walk  upon  flowers  in  carpets. 
You  never  meet  with  quadrupeds  going  up  and  down 
the  waUs;  you  must  not  have  quadrupeds  represented 
upon  walls.  You  miist  use,"  said  the  gentleman,  "for 
all  these  purposes,  combinations  and  modifications  (in 
primary  colors)  of  mathematical  figures  which  are  sus- 
ceptible of  proof  and  demonstration.  This  is  the  new 
discovery.     This  is  fact.     This  is  taste." 

Charles  Dickens. 

6 


WKITTEN    SPEIXING.— SYNONYMS. 

Write  a  synonym  for  each  of  the  following  words: 

feminine  desire  irrigate  utihty 

laborer  salary  occidental  culpable 

value  soldier  dilatory  acid 


252  FIFTH    READER. 


v..   VOCAL  TRAINING.— PvTcn  or  Key. 

Fitch  relates  to  the  tone  of  voice  in  reading  or  speaking. 
The  degrees  of  pitch,  correspond,  in  some  measure,  to  the 
notes  of  the  scale  in  music.  There  are  three  degrees  of 
pitch — the  low,  the  high,  and  the  middle. 

The  middle  pitch  of  any  reader  is  that  to  which  his 
voice  naturally  inclines  in  conversation. 

Low  pitch  is  the  appropriate  tone  for  expressing  rev- 
erence, despair,  horror,  and  serious,  grave,  or  solemn 
thoughts. 

High  pitch  is  the  key  for  expressing  anger,  courage, 
joy,  and  exultation.  It  is  also  the  key  for  calling  or 
shouting. 

The  middle,  or  conversational  key  prevails  in  the  greater 
part  of  narrative,  descriptive,  or  didactic  reading. 

SPECIAI.  DIRECTION. 

For  ^^ middle  pitcli"  read  as  you  talk  in  ordinary  conversation;  for 
'^high  pitch,^'  read  as  high  as  you  can,  and  keep  the  tone  jmrc;  for 
"  low  pitch,"  read  as  low  as  you  can  tciihout  straining  the  voice. 


CONCERT  DRILL,   ON  PITCH. 

1.  Repeat,  three  times,  the  following  vowel  sounds: 
a,  e,  i,  o,  u. 

I.  With  low  pitch. 

II.  With  middle  pitch. 

III.  With  high  pitch. 

2.  Sing  the  scale  with  the  note  names :  do,  re,  mi,  etc. 

3.  Sing  the  scale  with  numbers :  1,  2,  3,  4,  etc. 

4.  Sing  the  scale,  substituting  in  place  of  notes  the 
following  words :   ale,  arm,  all,  eve,  err,  ice,  old,  use. 

5.  Ditto,  with  these  vocals:   a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  a,  e,  i. 

6.  Sound  the   third,  fifth,  and   eighth  notes;    then 
substitute  for  note  names :  eve,  arm,  ooze ;  then,  e,  a,  oo. 


FIFTH.  READER.  253 

I,    MEDDLE  PITCH. 

I.      THE  DESERTED  VILLAGE. 

Sweet  Auburn !  loveliest  village  of  the  plain, 
Where  health  and  plenty  cheered  the  laboring  swain; 
Where  smiling  spring  its  earliest  visit  paid, 
And  parting  summer's  lingering  blooms  delayed: 
Dear,  lovely  bowers  of  innocence  and  ease, 
Seats  of  my  youth,  when  every  sport  could  please, 
How  often  have  I  loitered  o'er  thy  green. 
Where  humble  happiness  endeared  each  scene! 
How  often  have  I  paused  on  every  charm. 
The  sheltered  cot,  the  cultivated  farm, 
The  never-failing  brook,  the  busy  mill, 
The  decent  church  that  topped  the  neighboring  hill. 
The  hawthorn  bush,  with  seats  beneath  the  shade. 
For  talking  age  and  whispering  lovers,  made ! 

Goldsmith. 
II.      CHRISTMAS  DINNER. 

Mrs.  Cratchit  made  the  gravy  (ready  beforehand  in  a 
little  saucepan)  hissing  hot;  Master  Peter  mashed  the 
potatoes  with  incredible  vigor;  Miss  Behnda  sweetened 
up  the  apple-sauce;  Martha  dusted  the  hot  plates;  Bob 
took  Tiny  Tim  beside  him  in  a  tiny  comer  at  the 
table:  the  two  young  Cratchits  set  chairs  for  everybody, 
not  forgetting  themselves,  and  mounting  guard  upon 
their  posts,  crammed  spoons  into  their  mouths,  lest  they 
should  sliriek  for  goose  before  their  turn  came  to  be 
helped.  At  last  the  dishes  were  set  on,  and  grace  was 
said.  It  was  succeeded  by  a  breathless  pause,  as  Mrs. 
Cratchit,  looking  slowly  all  along  the  carving-knife,  pre- 
pared to  plunge  it  in  the  breast;  but  when  she  did,  and 
when  the  long-expected  gush  of  stuffing  issued  forth, 
one  murmur  of  delight  arose  all  round  the  board,  and 
even  Tiny  Tim,  excited  by  the  two  young  Cratchits, 
beat  on  the  table  with  the  handle  of  his  knife,  and 
feebly  cried.  Hurrah  !  dickens. 


254  FIFTH    READER. 

II.     I.OW  PITCH. 

Lolo  Pitch  combined  with  the  monotone :  sloio  movement 

I.      FROM   THE   PSALMS. 

He  bowed  the  heavens,  also,  and  came  down;  and 
darkness  was  under  his  feet;  and  he  rode  upon  a  cherub, 
and  did  fly;  yea,  he  did  fly  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind; 
and  he  made  darkness  his  secret  place ;  his  pavihon  round 
about  him  were  dark  waters  and  thick  clouds  of  the  skies. 

Tlie  Bible. 
II.      THE   GRAVE. 

How  frightful  the  grave!   how  deserted  and  drear! 
With  the  howls  of  the  storm- wind,  the  creaks  of  the  bier, 
And  the  white  bones  all  clattering  together! 

III.      DREAM   OF  DARKNESS. 

The  rivers,  lakes,  and  ocean,  all  stood  still. 

And  nothing  stirred  within  their  silent  depths; 

Ships,  sailorless,  lay  rotting  on  the  sea. 

And  their  masts  fell  down  piecemeal :   as  they  dropped. 

They  slept  on  the  abyss,  without  a  surge — 

The  waves  were  dead;    the  tides  were  in  their  grave; 

The  moon,  their  mistress,  had  expired  before ; 

The  winds  were  withered  in  the  stagnant  air, 

And  the  clouds  perished;   Darkness  had  no  need 

Of  aid  from  them — She  was  the  universe. 


Bybon. 


IV.      THE    BLUE    AND    THE    GRAY. 

From  the  silence  of  soiTOwful  hours 

The  desolate  mourners  go. 
Lovingly  laden  with  flowers, 

Alike  for  the  friend  and  the  foe: 
Under  the  sod  and  the  dew, 

Waiting  the  judgment  day; — 
Under  the  roses,  the  Blue; 
Under  the  lilies,  the  Gray. 


FIFTH    READER.  255 

V.      THE    IRON    BELLS. 

Hear  the  tolling  of  the  bells — 
Iron  bells! 
What  a  world  of  solemn  thought  their  monody  compels ! 
In  the  silence  of  the  night, 
How  we  shiver  with  affright 
At  the  melancholy  menace  of  their  tone! 
For  every  sound  that  floats 
From  the  rust  within  their  throats 

Is  a  groan. 
And  the  people — ah,  the  people — 
They  that  dwell  up  in  the  steeple, 

ALL  alone! 
And  who  toUing,  tolling,  tolling, 

In  that  muffled  monotone. 
Feel  a  glory  in  so  roUing 

On  the  human  heart  a  stone — 
They  are  neither  man  nor  woman — 
They  are  neither  brute  nor  human — 
They  are  Ghouls: 
And  their  king  it  is  who  toUsj 
And  he  rolls,  rolls,  rolls, 
EoUs 
A  paean  from  the  beUs! 
And  his  merry  bosom  swells 

With  the  paean  of  the  beUs! 
And  he  dances,  and  he  yells  j 
Keeping  time,  time,  time. 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme, 
To  the  paean  of  the  bells — 

Of  the  beUs: 
Keeping  time,  time,  time. 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme. 

To  the  throbbing  of  the  beUs — 
Of  the  beUs,  beUs,  beUs— 
To  the  sobbing  of  the  beUs — 


256  FIFTH    READER. 

Keeping  time,  time,  time, 

As  he  knells,  knells,  knells, 
In  a  happy  Runic  rhyme. 

To  the  rolling  of  the  bells — 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells. 

To  the  tolling  of  the  bells— 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells. 
Bells,  bells,  bells — 
To  the  moaning  and  the  groaning  of  the  bells. 

VI.     lochiel's  warning. 
Lochiel,  Lochiel,  beware  of  the  day! 
For,  dark  and  despairing,  my  sight  I  may  seal, 
Yet  man  cannot  cover  what  God  would  reveal: 
^Tis  the  sunset  of  life  gives  me  mystical  lore, 
And  coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before. 
I  tell  thee,  Culloden's  dread  echoes  shall  ring 
With  the  blood-hounds  that  bark  for  thy  fugitive  king. 
Lo !    anointed  by  heaven  with  the  vials  of  wrath. 
Behold  where  he  flies  on  his  desolate  path! 
Now,  in  darkness  and  billows,  he  sweeps  from  my  sight: 
Rise,  rise !  ye  wild  tempests,  and  cover  his  flight  I 
'Tis  finished.     Their  thunders  are  hushed  on  the  moors  j 
Culloden  is  lost,  and  my  country  deplores. 
But  where  is  the  iron-bound  prisoner?     Where? 
For  the  red  eye  of  battle  is  shut  in  despair. 
Say,  mounts  he  the  ocean-wave,  banished,  forlorn. 
Like  a  limb  from  his  country,  cast  bleeding  and  torn? 
Ah  no!   for  a  darker  departure  is  near,- 
The  war-drum  is  muffled,  and  black  is  the  bierj 
His  death-bell  is  tolling :    oh  I  mercy,  dispel 
Yon  sight  that  it  freezes  my  spirit  to  teU! 
Life  flutters  convulsed  in  his  quivering  limbs. 
And  his  blood-streaming  nostril  in  agony  swims. 
Accursed  be  the  fagots  that  blaze  at  his  feet, 
Where  his  heart  shall  be  thrown,  ere  it  ceases  to  beat, 


FIFTH    READER.  257 


HI.    HIGH  PITCH. 


I.      SPRING. 

I  come!    I  come! — ye  have  called  me  long: 
I  come  o'er  the  mountains  with  light  and  song! 
Ye  may  trace  my  step  o'er  the  wakening  earth, 
By  the  winds  which  tell  of  the  violet's  birth, 
By  the  primrose  stars  in  the  shadowy  grass. 
By  the  green  leaves  opening  as  I  pass. 

Hehans. 

II.       THE   SILVER  BELLS. 

Hear  the  sledges  with  the  bells — 
Silver  beUs! 
"What  a  world  of  merriment  their  melody  foretells! 
How  they  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle. 

In  the  icy  air  of  night! 
While  the  stars  that  oversprinkle 
All  the  heavens,  seem  to  twinkle 

With  a  crystalline  delight  j 
Keeping  time,  time,  time. 
In  a  sort  of  Rnnic  rhyme, 
To  the  tintinnabulation  that  so  musically  wells 
From  the  bells,  beUs,  beUs,  bells. 
Bells,  beUs,  bells — 
From  the  jingling  and  the  tinkling  of  the  beUs. 

POE. 

III.       THE    BOBOLINK. 

Merrily  swinging  on  brier  and  weed. 

Near  to  the  nest  of  his  little  dame, 
Over  the  mountain-side  or  mead, 

Robert  of  Lincoln  is  telling  his  name, — 
Bob-o-link,  bob-o-Hnk, 
Spink,  spank,  spink! 
Snug  and  safe  is  that  nest  of  ours, 
Hidden  among  the  summer  flowers; 
Chee,  chee,  chee! 


5-17 


Bkyant. 


258  FIFTH    READER. 


25.     THE   COYOTE. 


1.  The  coyote  of  the  farther  deserts  is  a  long,  slim, 
sick,  and  sorry-looking  skeleton,  with  a  gray  wolf-skin 
stretched  over  it^  a  tolerably  bushy  tail  that  forever 
sags  down  with  a  despairing  expression  of  forsakenness 
and  misery,  a  furtive  and  evil  eye,  and  a  long,  sharp 
face,  with  slightly  lifted  lip  and  exposed  teeth. 

2.  He  has  a  general  slinking  expression  all  over. 
The  coyote  is  a  living,  breathing  allegory  of  Want.  He 
is  always  hungry.  He  is  always  poor,  out  of  luck,  and 
friendless.  The  meanest  creatures  despise  him,  and 
even  the  fleas  would  desert  him  for  a  velocipede.  He 
is  so  spiritless  and  cowardly  that,  even  while  his  exposed 
teeth  are  pretending  a  threat,  the  rest  of  his  face  is 
apologizing  for  it.  And  he  is  so  homely! — so  scrawny^ 
and  ribby,  and  coarse-haired,  and  pitiful! 

3.  When  he  sees  you  he  lifts  his  lip  and  lets  a  flash 
of  his  teeth  out,  and  then  turns  a  little  out  of  the 
course  he  was  pursuing,  depresses  his  head  a  bit,  and 
strikes  a  long,  soft-footed  trot  through  the  sage-brush, 
glancing  over  his  shoulder  at  you,  from  time  to  timjs, 
till  he  is  about  out  of  easy  pistol  range,  and  then  he 
stops  and  takes  a  deliberate  survey  of  you  5  he  will 
trot  fifty  yards  and  stop  again — another  fifty,  and  stop 
again;  and,  finally,  the  gray  of  his  gliding  body  blends 
with  the  gray  of  the  sage-brush,  and  he  disappears. 

4.  But  if  you  start  a  swift-footed  dog  after  him,  you 
wiU  enjoy  it  ever  so  much — especially  if  it  is  a  dog  that 
has  a  good  opinion  of  himself,  and  has  been  brought  up 
to  think  that  he  knows  something  about  speed.  The 
coyote  will  go  swinging  gently  off  on  that  deceitful  trot 
of  his,  and  every  little  while  he  will  smil^  a  fraudful 
smile  over  his  shoulder  that  will  fiU  that  dog  entirely 
full  of  encouragement  and  worldly  ambition,  and  make 


FIFTH    READER.  259 

him  lay  his  head  still  lower  to  the  ground,  and  stretch 
his  neck  farther  to  the  front,  and  pant  more  fiercely, 
and  move  his  furious  legs  with  a  yet  wilder  frenzy, 
and  leave  a  broader  and  broader,  and  higher  and  denser 
cloud  of  desert  sand  smoking  behind,  and  marking  his 
long  wake  across  the  level  country. 

5.  All  this  time  the  dog  is  only  a  short  twenty  feet 
behind  the  coyote,  and,  to  save  the  life  of  him,  he  cannot 
understand  why  it  is  that  he  cannot  get  perceptibly 
closer;  and  he  begins  to  get  aggravated,  and  it  makes 
him  madder  and  madder  to  see  how  gently  the  coyote 
glides  along,  and  never  pants  or  sweats,  or  ceases  to 
smile;  and  he  grows  still  more  and  more  incensed  to 
see  how  shameftdly  he  has  been  taken  in  by  an  entire 
stranger,  and  what  an  ignoble  swindle  that  long,  calm, 
soft-footed  trot  is. 

6.  And  next  the  dog  notices  that  he  is  getting  fagged, 
and  that  the  coyote  actually  has  to  slacken  speed  a  little, 
to  keep  from  running  away  from  him.  And  then  that 
town  dog  is  mad  in  earnest,  and  he  begins  to  strain, 
and  weep,  and  swear,  and  paw  the  sand  higher  than 
ever,  and  reach  for  the  coyote  with  concentrated  and 
desperate  energy. 

7.  This  "spurt"  finds  him  six  feet  behind  the  gliding 
enemy,  and  two  miles  from  his  friends.  And  then,  in 
the  instant  that  a  wild  new  hope  is  lighting  up  his 
face,  the  coyote  turns  and  smiles  blandly  upon  him 
once  more,  and  with  a  something  about  it  which  seems 
to  say: 

8.  "  Well,  I  shall  have  to  tear  myseK  away  from  you, 
but — ^business  is  business,  and  it  will  not  do  for  me 
to  be  fooling  along  this  way  all  day."  And  forthwith 
there  is  a  rushing  sound,  and  the  sudden  splitting  of 
a  long  crack  through  the  atmosphere,  and  behold,  that 
dog  is  solitary  and  alone  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  solitude. 

S.  L.  Clemens  {Mark  Twain). 


260  FIFTH   READER. 


26.     RIME   OF   THE   ANCIENT   MARINEB. 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  was  born  in  England  in  1772,  and  died,  1834.  The 
"  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner,"  from  which  the  following  extract  is  talcen,  is  one 
of  the  most  interesting  and  delightful  of  his  poems.  Read  the  whole  poem,  if  you 
can  find  it  in  the  library.  * 

1.   The  fair  breeze  blew,  the  white  foam  flew, 
The  furrow  followed  free: 
We  were  the  first  that  ever  burst 
Into  that  silent  sea! 


2.  Down  dropt  the  breeze,  the  sails  dropt  down, 
'Twas  sad  as  sad  could  be; 

And  we  did  speak  only  to  break 
The  silence  of  the  sea! 

3.  Day  after  day,  day  after  day, 
We  stuck,  nor  breath  nor  motion  j 
As  idle  as  a  painted  ship 

Upon  a  painted  ocean. 

4.  Water,  water,  every-where, 
And  aU  the  boards  did  shrink  j 
Water,  water,  every-where, 
Nor  any  drop  to  drink. 

5.  The  very  deep  did  rot:   0  Christ! 
That  ever  this  should  be  I 

Yea,  shmy  things  did  crawl  with  legs 
Upon  the  slimy  sea. 

6.  Ah!   weUaday!   what  evil  looks 
Had  I  from  old  and  young! 
Instead  of  the  cross,  the  Albatross 
About  my  neck  was  hung. 

7.  There  passed  a  weary  time.    Each  throat 
Was  parched,  and  glazed  each  eye. 


FIFTH    READER.  261 

A  weary  time !   a  weary  time ! 
How  glazed  each  weary  eye, 
When  looking  westward,  I  beheld 
A  something  in  the  sky. 

8.  A  speck,  a  mist,  a  shape,  I  wist! 
And  stni  it  neared  and  nearedj 
As  if  it  dodged  a  water-sprite. 

It  plunged  and  tacked  and  veered. 

9.  With  throats  unslaked,  with  black  lips  baked, 
We  could  not  laugh  nor  wail; 

Through  utter  drought  all  dumb  we  stood! 
I  bit  my  arm,  I  sucked  the  blood, 
And  cried,  A  sail!   a  sail! 

10.  See !   see !    (I  cried)  she  tacks  no  more ! 
Hither  to  work  us  weal; 

Without  a  breeze,  without  a  tide, 
She  steadies  with  upright  keel! 

11.  The  Sun^s  rim  dips;   the  stars  rush  out: 
At  one  stride  comes  the  dark; 

With  far-heard  whisper,  o'er  the  sea, 
Off  shot  the  specter-bark. 

12.  The  stars  were  dim,  and  thick  the  night. 

The  steersman's  face  by  his  lamp  gleamed  white; 

From  the  sails  the  dew  did  drip — 

Till  clomb  above  the  eastern  bar 

The  homed  Moon,  with  one  bright  star 

Within  the  nether  tip. 

13.  One  after  one,  by  the  star-dogged  Moon, 
Too  quick  for  groan  or  sigh. 

Each  turned  his  face  with  a  ghastly  pang, 
And  cursed  me  with  his  eye. 


262  FIFTH    READER. 

14.  Four  times  fifty  living  men 
(And  I  heard  nor  sigh  nor  groan), 
With  heavy  thump,  a  lifeless  lump, 
They  dropped  down  one  by  one. 

15.  The  souls  did  from  their  bodies  fly,- 
They  fled  to  bliss  or  woe ! 

And  every  soul,  it  passed  me  by. 

Like  the  whiz  of  my  cross-bow!  comridge. 

Supplementary  Beading.     If  possible,  let  the  class  also-  read  Cole- 
ridge's "Morning  H3nnn  to  Mont  Blanc." 


27.    WASHINGTON'S   BIRTHDAY. 

Lei  the  hoys  of  tlie  class  memorize  this  piece  for  declamation. 

1.  It  is  the  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  Washington. 
We  should  know  this,  even  if  we  had  lost  our  calendars, 
for  we  should  be  reminded  of  it  by  the  shouts  of  joy 
and  gladness.  All  the  good,  whether  learned  or  un- 
learned, high  or  low,  rich  or  poor,  feel,  this  day,  that 
there  is  one  treasure  common  to  them  aU,  and  that  is 
the  fame  and  character  of  Washington.  They  recount 
his  deeds,  ponder  over  his  principles  and  teachings,  and 
resolve  to  be  more  and  more  guided  by  them  in  the 
future. 

2.  To  the  old  and  the  young,  to  all  bom  in  the  land, 
and  to  all  whose  love  of  liberty  has  brought  them  from 
foreign  shores  to  make  this  the  home  of  their  adoption, 
the  name  of  Washington  is  this  day  an  exhilarating 
theme.  Americans  by  birth,  are  proud  of  his  character, 
and  exiles  from  foreign  shores  are  eager  to  participate 
in  admiration  of  himj  and  it  is  true  that  he  is,  this 
day,  here,  every- where,  all  the  world  over,  more  an  object 
of  love  and  regard  than  on  any  day  since  his  birth. 

From  an  Oration  by  Daniel  Webstee. 


FIFTH    READER.  263 


28.     THE   SHIPWRECK. 

1.  It  was  broad  day — eight  or  uine  o'clock;  tlie  storm 
raging  in  Heu  of  the  batteries;  and  some  one  knocking 
and  calling  at  my  door. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  I  cried. 

"A  wreck!   close  by!" 

I  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  asked;   "What  wreck?" 

2.  "A  schooner,  from  Spain  or  Portugal,  laden  with 
fruit  and  wine.  Make  haste,  sir,  if  you  want  to  see 
her !  It 's  thought,  down  on  the  beach,  she  'U  go  to 
pieces  every  moment." 

3.  The  excited  voice  went  clamoring  along  the  stair- 
case; and  I  wrapped  myself  in  my  clothes  as  quickly 
as  I  could,  and  ran  into  the  street. 

4.  Numbers  of  people  were  there  before  me,  aU  run- 
ning in  one  direction,  to  the  beach,  I  ran  the  same  way, 
outstripping  a  good  many,  and  soon  came  facing  the  sea. 

5.  The  wind  might,  by  this  time,  have  lulled  a  little, 
though  not  more  sensibly  than  if  the  cannonading  I 
had  dreamed  of,  had  been  diminished  by  the  silencing 
of  half-a-dozen  guns  out  of  hundreds.  But  the  sea, 
having  upon  it  additional  agitation  of  the  whole  night, 
was  infinitely  more  terrific  than  when  I  had  seen  it 
last.  Every  appearance  it  had  then  presented  bore  the 
expression  of  being  swelled;  and  the  height  to  which 
the  breakers  rose,  and,  looking  over  one  another,  bore 
one  another  down  and  rolled  in,  in  interminable  hosts, 
was  most  appalling. 

6.  In  the  difficulty  of  hearing  any  thing  but  wind  and 
waves,  in  the  crowd  and  the  unspeakable  confusion,  and 
my  first  breathless  efforts  to  stand  against  the  weather, 
I  was  so  confused  that  I  looked  out  to  sea  for  the 
wreck,  and  saw  nothing  but  the  foaming  heads  of  the 
great  waves. 


264  FIFTH    READER. 

7.  A  half-dressed  boatman,  standing  next  me,  pointed 
with  his  bare  arm  (a  tattooed  arrow  on  it  pointing  in 
the  same  direction)  to  the  left.  Then,  O  great  Heaven, 
I  saw  it,  close  in  upon  us ! 

8.  One  mast  was  broken  short  off,  six  or  eight  feet 
from  the  deck,  and  lay  over  the  side,  entangled  in  a 
maze  of  sail  and  rigging;  and  all  that  ruin,  as  the  ship 
rolled  and  beat, — which  she  did  without  a  moment's 
pause,  and  with  a  violence  quite  inconceivable, — beat  the 
side  as  if  it  would  stave  it  in. 

9.  Some  efforts  were  even  then  being  made  to  cut  this 
portion  of  the  wrreck  away;  for  as  the  ship,  which  was 
broadside  on,  turned  towards  us  in  her  rolling,  I  plainly 
descried  her  people  at  work  with  axes,  especially  one 
active  figure  with  long  curling  hair,  conspicuous  among 
the  rest.  But  a  great  cry,  which  was  audible  even 
above  the  wind  and  water,  rose  from  the  shore  at  this 
moment;  the  sea,  sweeping  over  the  rolling  wreck,  made 
a  clean  breach,  and  carried  men,  spars,  casks,  planks, 
bulwarks,   heaps   of   such  toys,   into  the  boihng  surge. 

10.  The  second  mast  was  yet  standing,  with  the  rags 
of  a  rent  sail,  and  a  wild  confusion  of  broken  cordage 
flapping  to  and  fro.  The  ship  had  struck  once,  the 
same  boatman  hoarsely  said  in  my  ear,  and  then  lifted 
in  and  struck  again. 

11.  I  understood  him  to  add  that  she  was  parting 
amidships,  and  I  could  readily  suppose  so,  for  the  roll- 
ing and  beating  were  too  tremendous  for  any  human 
work  to  suffer  long.  As  he  spoke,  there  was  another 
great  cry  of  pity  from  the  beach;  four  men  arose  with 
the  wreck  out  of  the  deep,  clinging  to  the  rigging  of 
the  remaining  mast,  uppermost  the  active  figure  with 
the  curhng  hair. 

12.  There  was  a  bell  on  board;  and  as  the  ship  rolled 
and  dashed,  like  a  desperate  creature  driven  mad,  now 
showing  us  the  whole  sweep  of  her  deck  as  she  turned 


FIFTH    READER.  265 

on  her  beam  ends  towards  the  shore,  now  nothing  but 
her  keel,  as  she  sprung  wildly  over  and  turned  towards 
the  sea,  the  bell  rang;  and  its  sound,  the  knell  of  those 
unhappy  men,  was  borne  towards  us  on  the  wind. 
Again  we  lost  her,  and  again  she  rose.  Two  men  were 
gone. 

13.  The  agony  on  shore  increased.  Men  groaned,  and 
clasped  their  hands;  women  shrieked,  and  turned  away 
their  faces.  Some  ran  wildly  up  and  down  along  the 
beach,  crying  for  help  where  no  help  could  be.  I  found 
myself  one  of  these,  frantically  imploring  a  knot  of 
sailors  whom  I  knew,  not  to  let  those  two  lost  creatures 
perish  before  our  eyes. 

14.  They  were  making  out  to  me,  in  an  agitated  way, 
I  don't  know  how — ^for  the  little  I  could  hear  I  was 
scarcely  composed  enough  to  imderstand — that  the  life- 
boat had  been  barely  manned  an  hour  ago,  and  could 
do  nothing;  and  that  as  no  man  would  be  so  desperate 
as  to  attempt  to  wade  off  with  a  rope,  and  establish  a 
communication  with  the  shore,  there  was  nothing  left 
to  try;  when  I  noticed  that  some  new  sensation  moved 
the  people  on  the  beach,  and  saw  them  part,  and  Ham 
come  breaking  through  them  to  the  front. 

15.  I  ran  to  him — as  well  as  I  know — to  repeat  my 
appeal  for  help.  But,  distracted  though  I  was,  by  a 
sight  so  new  to  me,  and  terrible,  the  determination  in 
his  face,  and  his  look  out  to  sea — exactly  the  same  look 
as  I  remembered  in  connection  with  the  morning  after 
Emily's  flight — awoke  me  to  a  knowledge  of  his  danger. 
I  held  him  back  with  both  arms;  and  implored  the  men 
with  whom  I  had  been  speaking  not  to  listen  to  him,  not 
to  do  murder,  not  to  let  him  stir  from  off  that  sand! 

16.  Another  cry  arose  on  shore;  and  looking  to  the 
wreck,  we  saw  the  cruel  sail,  with  blow  on  blow,  beat 
off  the  lower  of  the  two  men,  and  fly  up  in  triumph 
round  the  active  figure  left  alone  upon  the  mast. 


266  FIFTH    READER. 

17.  Against  such  a  sight,  and  against  such  determina- 
tion as  that  of  the  cahnly  desperate  man  who  was  ah-eady 
accustomed  to  lead  half  the  people  present,  I  might  as 
hopefully  entreated  the  wind.  ^'Mas'r  Davy/'  he  said, 
cheerfully  grasping  me  by  both  hands,  ^'ii  my  time  is 
come,  'tis  come.  If  'ta'n't,  I'll  bide  it.  Lord  above 
bless  you,  and  bless  all!  Mates,  make  me  ready.  I'm 
a-going  off!" 

18.  I  was  swept  away,  but  not  unkindly,  to  some  dis- 
tance, where  the  people  around  me  made  me  stay; 
urging,  as  I  confusedly  perceived,  that  he  was  bent  on 
going,  with  help  or  without,  and  that  I  should  en- 
danger the  precautions  for  his  safety  by  troubling  those 
with  whom  they  rested. 

19.  I  don't  know  what  I  answered  or  what  they  re- 
joined ;  but  I  saw  hurry  on  the  beach,  and  men  running 
with  ropes  from  a  capstan  that  was  there,  and  pene- 
trating into  a  circle  of  figures  that  hid  him  from  me. 
Then  I  saw  him  standing  alone,  in  a  seaman's  frock 
and  trowsers ;  a  rope  in  his  hand,  or  slung  to  his  wrist, 
another  around  his  body,  and  several  of  the  best  men 
holding,  at  a  little  distance,  the  latter,  which  he  laid  out 
himseK,  slack  upon  the  shore,  at  his  feet. 

20.  The  wreck,  even  to  my  unpracticed  eye,  was  break- 
ing up.  I  saw  that  she  was  parting  in  the  middle,  and 
that  the  hfe  of  the  solitary  man  upon  the  mast  hung 
by  a  thread.  Still  he  clung  to  it.  He  had  a  singular 
red  cap  on,  not  like  .a  sailor's  cap,  but  of  a  fine  color; 
and  as  the  few  yielding  planks  between  him  and  destruc- 
tion rolled  and  bulged,  and  his  anticipative  death-knell 
rung,  he  was  seen  by  all  of  us  to  wave  it.  I  saw  him 
do  it  now,  and  thought  I  was  going  distracted,  when 
his  action  brought  an  old  remembrance  to  my  mind  of 
a  once  dear  friend. 

21.  Ham  watched  the  sea,  standing  alone,  with  the 
silence  of  suspended  breath  behind  him,  and  the  storm 


FIFTH    READER.  267 

before,  until  there  was  a  great  returning  wave,  when 
with  a  backward  glance  at  those  who  held  the  rope  which 
was  made  fast  around  his  body,  he  dashed  in  after  it, 
and  in  a  moment  was  buffeting  with  the  water — rising 
with  the  hills,  falling  with  the  valleys,  lost  beneath  the 
f oam^  then  drawn  to  land  again.    They  hauled  in  hastily. 

22.  He  was  hurt.  I  saw  blood  on  his  face  from  where 
I  stood;  but  he  took  no  thought  of  that.  He  seemed 
hurriedly  to  give  them  some  directions  for  leaving  him 
more  free, — or  so  I  judged  from  the  motion  of  his  arm, — 
and  was  gone  as  before. 

23.  And  now  he  made  for  the  wreck,  rising  with  the 
hills,  falling  with  the  valleys,  lost  beneath  the  rugged 
foam,  borne  in  towards  the  shore,  borne  on  towards  the 
ship,  striving  hard  and  valiantly. 

24.  The  distance  was  nothing,  but  the  power  of  the 
sea  and  wind  made  the  strife  deadly.  At  length  he 
neared  the  wreck.  He  was  so  near,  that  with  one  more 
of  his  vigorous  strokes  he  would  be  clinging  to  it,  when, 
a  high,  green,  vast  hill-side  of  water,  moving  on  shore- 
ward, from  beyond  the  ship,  he  seemed  to  leap  up  into 
it  with  a  mighty  bound,  and  the  ship  was  gone ! 

25.  Some  eddying  fragments  I  saw  in  the  sea,  as  if  a 
mere  cask  had  been  broken,  in  running  to  the  spot 
where  they  were  hauling  in.  Consternation  was  in  every 
face.  They  drew  him  to  my  very  feet — insensible — dead. 
He  was  carried  to  the  nearest  house;  and,  no  one  pre- 
venting me  now,  I  remained  near  him,  busy,  while  every 
means  of  restoration  were  tried ;  but  he  had  been  beaten 
to  death  by  the  great  wave,  and  his  generous  heart 
stUled  forever. 

Charles  Dickens. 

Spelling  Match.  Let  the  class  "  choose  sides,"  and  "  spell  down."  For 
a  lesson,  select  words  from  the  spelling  lessons  in  Part  L  of  the  Fifth  Reader. 

Dictionary  Lesson.  Find  the  meaning  of  consternation,  inter- 
minable, conspicnons,  cordage,  capstan,  anticipatiye. 


268  FIFTH    READER. 


YI.     VOCAL  TBAIJ^IWG.^QvAhiTY  of  Voice. 

Quality  relates  to  the  smootliness  and  clearness,  rough- 
ness and  harshness  of  the  voice. 

Pure  tone  is  nsed  in  gentle  and  subdued  forms  of 
utterance,  in  the  expression  of  tenderness  and  pathos, 
in  unimpassioned  reading  generally,  and  also  in  calling, 
when  the  voice  rises  to  a  thin,  clear  note. 

The  Orotund,  or  round  tone,  is  the  full  swelhng  ut- 
terance of  pure  tone,  like  the  notes  of  an  organ.  It 
prevails  in  the  expression  of  deep  feeling,  of  delight, 
joy,  sublimity,  and  reverence. 

Aspirated  quality  is  a  combination  of  tone  and  whis- 
per. It  is  applied  in  the  expression  of  secrecy,  fervor, 
and  terror. 

Guttural,  or  throat  quality,  is  the  rough,  harsh  tone 
to  which  the  voice  inclines  in  the  expression  of  intense 
hatred,  of  contempt  and  revenge. 

EXAMPLES    OF   PURE  TONE.— CONCERT   DRUX. 

I.      BUGLE  SONG. 

O  hark,  O  hear!   how  thin  and  clear, 
And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going; 
O  sweet  and  far,  from  cliff  and  scar, 
The  horns  of  Elf -land  faintly  blowing! 
Blow;   let  us  hear  the  purple  glens  replying; 
Blow,  bugle;   answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

Tennyson. 
II.      RURAL  HOLIDAY. 

Sometimes  with  secure  deHght, 
The  upland  hamlets  will  invite, 
When  the  merry  Mils  ring  round, 
And  the  jocund  rebecs  sound 


FIFTH    READER.  269 

To  many  a  y6uth  and  many  a  maid, 

Dancing  in  the  checkered  shMe; 

And  young  and  old  come  forth  to  play, 

On  a  sunshine  holiday, 

Till  the  livelong  dchjlight  fail. 

MllTON. 
III.      PASSING   AWAY. 

Was  it  the  chime  of  a  tiny  bell. 

That  came  so  sweet  to  my  dreaming  ear 
Like  the  silvery  tones  of  a  fairy's  shell, 

That  he  winds  on  the  beach  so  mellow  and  clear. 
When  the  winds  and  the  waves  lie  together  asleep. 
And  the  moon  and  the  fairy  are  watching  the  deep, 
She  dispensing  her  silvery  light, 
And  he  his  notes  as  silvery  quite, 
While  the  boatman  listens  and  ships  his  oar, 
To  catch  the  music  that  comes  from  the  shore? — 
Hark!   the  notes  on  my  ear  that  play. 
Are  set  to  words:   as  they  float,  they  say, 
"  Passing  away !  passing  away ! " 

PlEEPONT. 
IV.      RING    OUT,   WILD  BELLS. 

1.  Ring  out,  wild  bells,  to  the  wild  sky, 

The  flying  cloud,  the  frosty  light! 
The  year  is  dying  in  the  night: 
Ring  out,  wild  bells,  and  let  him  die! 

2.  Ring  out  the  old,  ring  in  the  new; 

Ring,  happy  bells,  across  the  snow: 
The  year  is  going — ^let  him  go: 
Ring  out  the  false,  ring  in  the  true. 

3.  Ring  out  the  grief  that  saps  the  mind. 

For  those  that  here  we  see  no  more; 
Ring  out  the  feud  of  rich  and  poor. 
Ring  in  redress  to  all  mankind. 

Tennyson. 


270  FIFTH    READER. 

exampLpES  of  the  okotund. 

i.    morning  hymn  to  mont  blanc. 
''God!"  sing  ye  meadow-streams,  with  gladsome  voice! 
Ye  pine-groves,  with  your  soft  and  soul-like  sounds! 
Ye  living  flowers  that  skirt  the  eternal  frost! 
Ye  wild  goats  sporting  round  the  eagle's  nest! 
Ye  eagles,  playmates  of  the  mountain  storm ! 
Ye  lightnings,  the  dread  arrows  of  the  clouds! 
Ye  signs  and  wonders  of  the  elements! 
Utter  forth  ''  God/'  and  fill  the  hills  with  praise ! 

COLERIDGPI. 

II.    A  new-year's  chimb. 
Ho !   ye  wardens  of  the  bells, 

Ring  !  ring  !   ring  ! 
Ring  for  winter's  bracing  hours. 
Ring  for  birth  of  spring  and  flowers, 
Ring  for  summer's  fruitful  treasure. 
Ring  for  autumn's  boundless  measure, 
Ring  for  hands  of  generous  giving. 
Ring  for  vows  of  nobler  living. 
Ring  for  truths  of  tongue  or  pen, 
Ring,  "Peace  on  earth,  good- will  to  men." 

Ring  /   riyig !   ring ! 
Ring,  that  this  glad  year  may  see 
Earth's  accomplished  jubilee! 

Ring  !   ring !  ring ! 

III.      REVERENCE. 

O  Lord !  Thou  art  clothed  with  honor  and  majesty; 
who  coverest  thyself  with  light  as  with  a  garment;  who 
stretchest  out  the  heavens  like  a  curtain;  who  iayeth 
the  beams  of  his  chambers  in  the  waters;  who  maketh 
the  clouds  his  chariot;  who  walketh  upon  the  wings  of 
the  wind;  who  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  that 
it  should  not  be  removed  for  ever. 

The  Bible. 


FIFTH    READER.  271 

EXAltfPLES   OF   GUTTURAL    QUALITY. 

I.      SHYLOCK,   REGARDING  ANTONIO. 

How  like  a  fawning  puhlican  he  looks ! 

I  hate  him  for  he  is  a  Christian; 

But  more,  for  that,  in  low  simplicity, 

He  lends  out  money  gratis,  and  brings  down 

The  rate  of  usuance  with  us  here  in  Venice. 

If  I  can  catch  him  once  upon  the  Hjp, 

I  will  feed  fat  the  ancient  grudge  I  bear  him ! 

He  hates  our  sacred  nation;    and  he  rails. 

Even  there  where  merchants  most  do  congregate, 

On  mhj  my  hdrgains,  and  my  well- won  thrlftj 

Which  he  calls — interest. — Cursed  be  my  tribe, 

If  I  forgive  him  ! 

II.      MERCHANT  OF  VENICE. 

If  it  will  feed  nothing  else,  it  will  feed  my  revenge. 
He  hath  disgraced  me,  and  hindered  me  of  haK  a  mill- 
ion: laughed  at  my  losses,  mocked  at  my  gains,  scorned 
my  nation,  thwarted  my  bargains,  cooled  my  friends, 
heated  my  enemies;  and  what's  his  reason?  I  am  a 
Jew.  Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes?  Hath  not  a  Jew  hands, 
organs,  dimensions,  senses,  affections,  passions?  Fed 
with  the  same  food,  hurt  with  the  same  weapons,  sub- 
ject to  the  same  diseases,  healed  by  the  same  means, 
warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same  winter  and  summer,  as 
a  Christian  is?  If  you  prick  us,  do  we  not  bleed?  if 
you  tickle  us,  do  we  not  laugh?  if  you  poison  us,  do 
we  not  die?  and  if  you  wrong  us,  shall  we  not  revenge? 
If  we  are  hke  you  in  the  rest,  we  will  resemble  you  in 
that.  If  a  Jew  wrong  a  Christian,  what  is  his  humility? 
Revenge!  If  a  Christian  wrong  a  Jew,  what  should  his 
sufferance  be  by  Christian  example?  Why,  revenge! 
The  villainy  you  teach  me  I  will  execute !  and  it  shaU 
go  hard  but  I  T\dll  better  the  instruction! 

Shakespeare. 


272  FIFTH    READER. 

EXAMPI.es    of   aspirated    QUAUtTY. 
I.      THE  WHISPER. 

1.  Hark !   listen  !   keep  still ! 

2.  Step  softly !   make  no  noise  ! 

H.     INTENSE    WHISPER. 

1.  Hark  !  I  hear  the  bugles  of  the  enemy !  They  are 
on  their  march  along  the  bank  of  the  river.  We  must 
retreat  instantly,  or  be  cut  off  from  our  boats.  I  see 
the  head  of  their  column  already  rising  over  the  height. 
Our  only  safety  is  in  the  screen  of  this  hedge.  Keep 
close  to  it;  be  silent;  and  stoop  as  you  run.  For  the 
boats !     Forward ! 

2.  Supplementary  drill. — Read  in  a  forcible  whisper 
the  tables  of  Elementary  Sounds  at  the  end  of  Part  I., 
page  177. 

m.      THE   HAXF- WHISPER. 

The  half-icMsper  is  a  combination  of  whisper  and  tone, 

1.     Step  softly  and  speak  low, 
For  the  old  year  lies  a-dying. 
2.     This  is  the  room  of  the  sick  man.     Make  no  noise; 
he  must  not,  on  any  account,  be  disturbed.     Shut  the 
door  gently;   step  softly;  and  speak  low. 


CONCERT  DRII.I.  ON  QUAI.ITY. 

Repeat  four  times,  the  following  vowel 
i,  0,  u. 

1.  With  soft  whisper. 

2.  With  forcible  whisper. 

3.  With  pure  tone. 

4.  With  the  orotund. 

5.  With  guttural  quality. 

6.  With  aspirated  quality. 

sounds:  a,  e, 

FIFTH    READER.  273 


29.     APOSTROPHE   TO  THE   OCEAN. 

■  George  Gordon  B3rpon  was  born  in  London,  in  1788.  In  1809  ho  traxeled  through 
different  parts  of  Europe.  On  his  return  to  England  he  published  the  first  and  second 
cantos  of  "  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage,"  in  which  he  describes  with  royal  splendor  the 
picturesque  life  and  scenery  of  Greece,  Turkey,  and  the  East.  The  poem  was  received 
with  extraordinary  favor  so  that  he  "awoke  one  morning  and  found  himself  famous." 
In  1824  he  arrived  at  Missolonghi,  in  Greece,  with  the  intention  of  aiding  the  Greeks  to 
throw  off  the  Turkish  yoke,  but  ho  was  seized  with  a  fever  and  expired,  at  the  age  of 
thirty -six.  Byron's  poetic  genius  was  of  a  high  order.  He  was  the  poet  of  passion.  He 
had  an  intense  emotional  nature,  exquisite  sensitiveness  to  the  sublime  and  beautiful, 
wonderful  descriptive  powers,  wit,  sarcasm,  fire,  and  energy. 

Before  reading  this  extract  in  the  class,  question  pupils  to  ascertain 
if  they  have  studied  the  lesson  in  advance.  Then  call  the  attention 
of  pujnls  to  the  marJcings  for  rhetorical  pauses,  inflections,  and  em- 
phasis. Next,  read  the  poem,  line  by  line,  and  let  the  class  repeat  in 
concert.  Afterward,  require  each  pupil,  in  turn,  to  go  upon  the  plat- 
form and  read  one  stanza  to  the  class.  Finally,  require  pupils  to 
memorize  the  poem  for  recitation. 

1. 
There  is  a  pleasure  |  in  the  pathless  woods, 

There  is  a  rapture  \  on  the  lonely  shore, 
There  is  society,  where  none  intrudes, 

By  the  deep  Sea,  and  music  in  its  roar. 

I  love  not  man  the  less,  but  Nature  |  mbrey 
From  these  our  interviews,  in  which  I  steal  | 

From  all  I  may  be,  or  have  been  before, 
To  mingle  with  the  universe,  and  feel  | 
What  I  can  ne'er  express,  yet  cannot  all  conceal 

2. 
Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean — ^roll! 

Ten  thousand  fleets  \  sweep  over  thee  in  vain; 
Mail  I  marks  the  earth  \  with  riiin — ^his  control  | 

Stops  with  the  shores — upon  the  watery  plain  | 

The  Avrecks  |  are  all  thy  deed,  nor  doth  remain  | 
A  shadow  of  man's  ravage,  save  his  own, 

When,  for  a  moment,  like  a  drop  of  rain, 

5-18 


274  FIFTH    READER. 

He  sinks  into  thy  depths  |  with  bubbling  groan, 
Without  a  grave,  unknelled,  uncof&ned,  and  unknown. 

3. 
The  armaments  |  which  thunderstrike  the  walls  | 

Of  rock-built  cities,  bidding  nations  qu4ke, 
And  monarchs  |  tremble  in  their  capitals; 

The  oak  leviathans  whose  huge  ribs  make  | 

Their  clay  creator  |  the  vain  title  take  | 
Of  lord  of  thee,  and  arbiter  of  war, — 

These  |  are  thy  totjs  and,  as  the  snowy  flake, 
They  melt  into  the  yeast  of  waves,  which  mar  | 
Alike  the  Armada's  pride,  or  spoils  of  Trafalgar. 

4. 

Thy  shores  are  empires,  changed  in  all  save  thee; — 
Assyria,  Greece,  Rome,  Carthage,  what  |  are  tJihj  f 

Thy  waters  |  washed  them  power,  while  they  were  free, 
And  many  a  tyrant  \  since;   their  shores  obey  | 
The  stranger,  slave,  or  savage;   their  decay  | 

Has  dried  up  realms  to  deserts: — not  so  |  thou, 
Unchangeable,  save  to  thy  mid  waves'  play, 

Time  |  writes  no  wrinkle  \  on  thine  azure  brow: 

Such  as  creation^s  dawn  \  beheld,  thou  rollest  now. 

5. 
Thou  glorious  mirror,  where  the  Almighty's  form  | 

Glasses  itseK  in  tempests;   in  all  time, 
C^m  or  convulsed, — in  breeze,  or  gale,  or  storm, 

Icing  the  pole,  or  in  the  torrid  clime  | 

Dark  heaving; — ^boundless,  endless,  and  sublime — 
The  image  of  eternity  |  the  throne  | 

Of  tlie  Invisible;   even  from  out  thy  sltme  \ 
The  monsters  of  the  deep  |  are  made;   each  zone  | 
Obeys  thee:    thou  goest  forth,  dread,  fathomless,  alone. 

Bykon. 


FIFTH    READER.  275 


30.    WILLIAM   CULLEN   BRYANT. 

1.  "William  Cullen  Bryant  was  born  in  Cummington, 
Mass.,  in  1794.  His  father,  who  was  a  practicing  physi- 
cian, was  a  man  of  more  than  ordinary  intelligence  and 
sagacity.  At  ten  years  of  age  the  son  wrote  and  de- 
claimed in  school  a  piece  in  verse. 

2.  "  Thanatopsis,"  the  most  remarkable  poem  ever  com- 
posed at  an  early  age,  was  written  by  Bryant  in  his 
eighteenth  year.  His  father  showed  it  to  a  lady  who  was 
qualified  to  judge  of  such  things,  saying  simply,  '^Here 
are  some  lines  that  William  has  been  writing."  The 
lady  read  the  poem,  raised  her  eyes  to  the  father's  face, 
and  burst  out  weeping,  in  which  the  father,  a  somewhat 
stern  and  silent  man,  was  not  ashamed  to  join. 

3.  Bryant  studied  law,  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and 
after  practicing  for  ten  years,  abandoned  the  profession 
for  literary  and  editorial  pursuits.  He  removed  to  New 
York  city,  and  for  many  years  was  connected  with  the 
Evening  Post.  He  wrote  much  in  prose,  but  will  be  re- 
membered by  his  poetry  alone. 

4.  His  life  covers  the  entire  history  of  true  American 
literature,  and  he  himself  was  one  of  its  pioneers.  He 
was  the  poet  of  the  lakes,  rivers,  forests,  mountains, 
and  praii'ies  of  his  own  country.  He  described  what  he 
himself  saw,  and  his  emotions  were  always  genuine. 
Simplicity,  clearness,  and  vigor  mark  his  poetry.  His 
verse  will  never  be  forgotten  so  long  as  all  grand  and 
beautiful  objects  in  nature  stir  the  heart  of  man. 

5.  In  1874,  on  his  eightieth  birthday,  the  city  of  New 
York  presented  to  him,  as  a  token  of  appreciation,  a 
beautiful  and  costly  sUver  vase.  Bryant  died  in  New 
York,  in  1878,  at  the  age  of  eighty-four,  and  the  wish 
that  he  had  expressed  in  the  beautiful  poem  "June," — that 
he  might  be  buried  in  that  month, — was  literally  fulfilled. 


276  FIFTH    READER. 


31.     THE  WINDS. 

1. 
Ye  winds,  ye  unseen  currents  of  the  air, 

Softly  ye  played  a  few  brief  hours  ago; 
Ye  bore  the  murmuring  bee;   ye  tossed  the  hair 

O'er  maiden  cheeks,  that  took  a  fresher  glow; 
Ye  rolled  the  round  white  cloud  through  depths  of  blue, 
Ye  shook  from  shaded  flowers  the  lingering  dew; 
Before  you  the  catalpa's  blossom  flew, 

lAght  blossoms,  dropping  on  the  grass  like  snow. 

2. 

What  cMnge  is  this !     Ye  take  the  cdtaracfs  sound; 

Ye  take  the  wMrlpooVs  fury  and  its  might; 
The  mountain  shudders  as  ye  sweep  the  ground; 

The  valley  tvoods  lie  prone  beneath  your  flight; 
The  clouds  before  you  shoot  hke  eagles  past; 
The  homes  of  men  are  rocking  in  your  blast; 
Ye  lift  the  roofs  like  autumn  leaves,  and  cast. 

Skyward,  the  whirling  fragments  out  of  sight. 

3. 

*  The  weary  fowls  of  heaven  make  wing  in  vain, 

To  escape  your  wrath;  ye  seize  and  dash  them  dead; 

Against  the  earth  ye  drive  the  roaring  rain; 
The  harvest  field  becomes  a  rlver^s  bed; 

And  torrents  tumble  from  the  hills  around; 

Plains  turn  to  lakes,  and  villages  are  drowned; 

And  wailing  voices^  midst  the  tempest's  sound, 
Rise,  as  the  rushing  waters  swell  and  spread. 

4. 

Ye  dart  upon  the  deep;   and  straight  is  heard 
A  wilder  roar;   and  men  grow  pale,  and  pray; 


FIFTH    READER.  277 

Ye  fling  its  floods  around  you,  as  a  bird 

Flings  o'er  his  shivering  plumes  the  fountain's  spr^y. 
See!   to  the  breaking  mast  the  sailor  clings j 
Ye  scoop  the  ocean  to  its  briny  springs, 
And  take  the  mountain  billow  on  your  wings, 

And  pile  the  wreck  of  ndvies  round  the  bay 

5. 
Why  rage  ye  thus? — no  strife  for  liberty 

Has  made  you  mad;   no  tjTant,  strong  through  fear, 
Has  chained  your  pinions  till  ye  wrenched  them  free. 

And  rushed  into  the  unmeasured  atmosphere; 
For  ye  were  bom  in  freedom  where  ye  blow; 
Free  o'er  the  mighty  deep  to  come  and  g5; 
Earth's  solemn  wdods  were  yours,  her  wastes  of  sn6w, 

Her  isles  where  summer  blossoms  all  the  y^ar. 

6. 

O  ye  wild  winds!   a  mightier  Power  than  yours 

In  chains  upon  the  shore  of  Europe  lies; 
The  sceptered  throng,  whose  fetters  he  endures, 

Watch  his  mute  throes  with  terror  in  their  eyesj 
And  armed  warriors  all  around  him  stand. 
And,  as  he  struggles,  tighten  every  band, 
And  lift  the  heavy  spear,  with  threatening  hdnd, 
To  pierce  the  victim,  should  he  strive  to  rise. 

7. 
Yet  oh!   when  that  wronged  Spirit  of  our  race 

Shall  break,  as  soon  he  must,  his  long- worn  chains, 
And  leap  in  freedom  from  his  pnson-place, 

Lord  of  his  ancient  hills  and  fruitful  plains, 
Let  him  not  rise,  like  these  mad  winds  of  4ir, 
To  waste  the  loveliness  that  time  could  spare. 
To  fill  the  earth  with  woe,  and  blot  her  fair 

Unconscious  breast  with  blood  from  human  veins. 


278  FIFTH    READER. 

8. 

But  may  he  like  the  sprmg-tmie  come  abroad, 
Who  crumbles  winter's  gyves  with  gentle  might 

When  in  the  genial  breeze^  the  breath  of  God, 
The  unsealed  springs  come  spouting  up  to  light; 

Flotvers  start  from  their  dark  prisons  at  his  feet, 

The  woods,  long  dumb,  awake  to  hymnings  sweet; 

And  morn  and  eve,  whose  glimmerings  almost  meet, 
Crowd  back  to  narrow  bounds  the  ancient  night. 

Bryant. 


82.     TO  A  WATER-FOWL. 

1. 

Whither,  midst  falling  dew. 
While  glow  the  heavens  with  the  last  steps  of  day. 
Far,  thit)ugh  their  rosy  depths,  dost  thou  pursue 

Thy  sohtary  way? 

2. 

Vainly  the  fowler's  eye 
Might  mark  thy  distant  flight  to  do  thee  wrong, 
As,  darkly  seen  against  the  crimson  sky, 

Thy  figure  floats '•along. 

3. 

Seek'st  thou  the  plashy  brink 
Of  weedy  lake,  or  marge  of  river  wide, 
Or  where  the  rocky  biUows  rise  and  sink 

On  the  chafed  ocean-side? 

4. 

There  is  a  Power  whose  care 
Teaches  thy  way  along  that  pathless  coast — 
The  desert  and  illimitable  air — 

Lone  wandering,  but  not  lost. 


FIFTH    READER  279 

5. 

All  day  thy  wings  have  fanned, 
At  this  far  height,  the  cold,  thin  atmosphere, 
Yet  stoop  not,  weary,  to  the  welcome  land. 

Though  the  dark  night  is  near. 

6. 

And  soon  that  toil  shall  end; 
Soon  shalt  thou  find  a  summer  home,  and  rest. 
And  scream  among  thy  fellows;   reeds  shall  bend, 

Soon,  o'er  thy  sheltered  nest. 

7. 

Thou'rt  gone,  the  abyss  of  heaven 
Hath  swallowed  up  thy  form;   yet,  on  my  heart 
Deeply  hath  sunk  the  lesson  thou  hast  given, 

And  shall  not  soon  depart. 

8. 

He  who,  from  zone  to  zone, 
Guides  through  the  boundless  sky  thy  certain  flight. 
In  the  long  way  that  I  must  tread  alone. 

Will  lead  my  steps  aright. 

Bryant. 


7 

T\TIITTEN    SPELLING.-TKOUBLESOME    WORDS. 

Wlien  ei  or  ie  has  the  sound  of  long  e  after  c, 

the  e  comes 

first;   in  other  eases,  the  i  comes  first. 

1  The  e  comes  first.                  The  i  comes  first.  | 

deceive          conceit                 believe 

beUef 

deceit            receive                 reprieve 

grieve 

conceive        receipt                 retrieve 

grief 

Exceptions. — neither,  leisure,  seize. 

'280  FIFTH    READER. 


33.     ADVICE  TO  BOYS. 

1.  Upon  whatever  career  you  may  enter,  intellectnal 
qnickness,  industry,  and  the  power  of  bearing  fatigue 
are  three  great  advantages.  But  I  want  to  impress 
upon  you,  and  through  you  upon  those  who  will  direct 
your  future  course,  the  conviction  which  I  entertain 
that,  as  a  general  rule,  the  relative  importance  of  these 
three  qualifications  is  not  rightly  estimated;  and  that 
there  are  other  qualities  of  no  less  value  which  are  not 
directly  tested  by  school  competition. 

2.  A  somewhat  varied  experience  of  men  has  led  me, 
the  longer  I  live,  to  set  the  less  value  upon  mere  clever- 
ness; to  attach  more  and  more  importance  to  industry 
and  to  physical  endurance.  Indeed,  I  am  much  disposed 
to  think  that  endurance  is  the  most  valuable  quality  of 
all;  for  industry,  as  the  desire  to  work  hard,  does  not 
come  to  much  if  a  feeble  frame  is  unable  to  respond 
to  the  desire. 

3.  Everybody  who  has  had  to  make  his  way  in  the 
world  must  know  that  while  the  occasion  for  intellectual 
effort  of  a  high  order  is  rare,  it  constantly  happens 
that  a  man^s  future  turns  upon  his  being  able  to  stand 
a  sudden  and  a  heavy  strain  upon  his  powers  of  en- 
durance. To  a  lawyer,  a  physician,  or  a  merchant,  it 
may  be  every  thing  to  be  able  to  work  sixteen  hours  a 
day  for  as  long  as  is  needful,  without  yielding  up  to 
weariness. 

4.  Moreover,  the  patience,  tenacity,  and  good  humor 
which  are  among  the  most  important  qualifications  for 
dealing  with  men,  are  incompatible  with  an  irritable 
brain,  a  weak  stomach,  or  a  defective  circulation.  If 
any  one  of  you  prize-winners  were  a  son  of  mine,  and 
a  good  fairy  were  to  offer  to  equip  him  according  to 
my  wishes  for  the  battle  of  practical  Hfe,  I  should  say, 


FIFTH    READER.  281 

"I  do  not  care  to  trouble  you  for  any  more  cleverness; 
put  in  as  much  industry  as  you  can  instead;  and,  if 
you  please,  a  broad,  deep  chest,  and  a  stomach  of  whose 
existence  he  shall  never  know  any  thing."  I  should  be 
well  content  with  the  prospects  of  a  fellow  so  endowed. 

5.  The  other  point  which  I  wish  to  impress  upon  you 
is,  that  competitive  examination,  useful  and  excellent 
as  it  is  for  some  purposes,  is  only  a  very  partial  test 
of  what  the  winners  will  be  worth  in  practical  life. 
There  are  people  who  are  neither  very  clever,  nor  very 
industrious,  nor  very  strong,  and  who  would  probably 
be  nowhere  in  an  examination,  and  who  yet  exert  a 
great  influence  in  virtue  of  what  is  called  force  of 
character. 

6.  They  may  not  know  much,  but  they  take  care  that 
what  they  do  know  they  know  well.  They  may  not  be 
very  quick,  but  the  knowledge  they  acquire  sticks. 
They  may  not  even  be  particularly  industrious  or  en- 
during, but  they  are  strong  of  will  and  firm  of  purpose, 
undaunted  by  fear  of  responsibility,  single-minded  and 
trustworthy. 

7.  In  practical  life,  a  man  of  this  sort  is  worth  any 
number  of  merely  clever  and  learned  people.  Of  course 
I  do  not  mean  to  imply  for  a  moment  that  success  in 
examination  is  incompatible  with  the  possession  of  char- 
acter, such  as  I  have  just  defined  it,  but  failure  in 
examination  is  no  evidence  of  the  want  of  such  character. 

8.  And  this  leads  me  to  administer,  from  my  point 
of  view,  the  crumb  of  comfort  which  on  these  occasions 
is  ordinarily  offered  to  those  whose  names  do  not  appear 
upon  the  prize-list.  It  is  quite  true  that  practical  life 
is  a  kind  of  long  competitive  examination,  conducted 
by  that  severe  pedagogue.  Professor  Circumstance.  But 
my  experience  leads  me  to  conclude  that. his  marks  are 
given  much  more  for  character  than  for  cleverness. 

9.  Hence,  though  I  have  no  doubt  that  those  boys 


282  FIFTH    READER. 

who  have  received  prizes  to-day,  have  already  given  rise 
to  a  fair  hope  that  the  future  may  see  them  prominent, 
perhaps  brilliantly  distinguished  members  of  society,  yet 
neither  do  I  think  it  at  all  unlikely  that  among  the 
undistinguished  crowd  there  may  lie  the  making  of 
some  simple  soldier  whose  practical  sense  and  indomi- 
table courage  may  save  an  army  led  by  characterless 
cleverness  to  the  brink  of  destruction;  or  some  plain 
man  of  business,  who,  by  dint  of  sheer  honesty  and 
firmness,  may  slowly  and  surely  rise  to  prosperity  and 
honor,  when  his  more  brilliant  compeers,  for  lack  of 
character,  have  gone  down,  with  all  who  trusted  them, 
to  hopeless  ruin. 

10.  Such  things  do  happen.  Hence  let  none  of  you 
be  discouraged.  Those  who  have  won  prizes  have  made 
a  good  beginning;  those  who  have  not  may  yet  make 
that  good  ending  which  is  better  than  a  good  beginning. 
No  life  is  wasted  unless  it  ends  in  sloth,  dishonesty, 
or  cowardice.  No  success  is  worthy  of  the  name  unless 
it  is  won  by  honest  industry  and  brave  breasting  of 
the  waves  of  fortune. 

11.  Unless  at  the  end  of  life  some  exhalation  of  the 
dawn  stiU  hangs  about  the  palpable  and  the  familiar; 
unless  there  is  some  transformation  of  the  real  into  the 
best  dreams  of  youth,  depend  upon  it,  whatever  out- 
ward success  may  have  gathered  round  a  man,  he  is 
but  an  elaborate  and  a  mischievous  failure. 

Professor  Huxley. 

Composition.  Write  an  abstract  from  memory,  making  use  of  the 
following  heads: 

1.  Three  great  advantages;   their  relative  value. 

2.  Power  of  endurance. 

3.  Competitive  examinations  only  a  partial  test;  illustrations. 

4.  Professor  Circumstance;   character  and  cleverness. 

Dictionary  Lesson.  Find  the  meanitig  of  the  following  words: 
incompatible,  endowed,  competitive,  indomitable,  transforma- 
tion, compeers,  palpable,  elaborate.    Write  each  in  a  sentence. 


FIFTH    READER.  283 


34.     ODE  ON  THE   PASSIONS. 

1. 

When  Music,  heavenly  maid,  was  young, 
While  yet  in  early  Greece  she  sung, 
The  Passions  oft,  to  hear  her  shell. 
Thronged  around  her  magic  cell. 
Exulting,  trembling,  raging,  fainting, 
Possessed  beyond  the  Muse's  painting; 
By  turns  they  felt  the  glowing  mind 
Disturbed,  delighted,  raised,  refined; 
Till  once,  'tis  said,  when  all  were  fired. 
Filled  with  fury,  rapt,  inspired, 
From  the  supporting  mjTtles  round 
They  snatched  her  instruments  of  sound; 
And,  as  they  oft  had  heard  apart 
Sweet  lessons  of  her  forceful  art, 
Each — for  Madness  ruled  the  hour — 
Would  prove  his  own  expressive  power. 

2. 

First,  Fear  his  hand,  its  skill  to  try. 
Amid  the  chords  bewildered  laid, 

And  back  recoiled,  he  knew  not  why, 
E  'en  at  the  sound  himself  had  made. 

3. 
Next,  Anger  rushed,  his  eyes  on  fire, 
•   In  lightnings  owned  his  secret  stings: 
In  one  rude  clash  he  struck  the  l}Te, 

And  swept,  ivith  hurried  hands,  the  strings. 

4. 
With  woful  measures,  wan  Despair — 
Low,  sullen  sounds  his  grief  beguiled: 


284  FIFTH    READER. 

A  solemn,  strange,  and  mingled  air; 
^Twas  sad,  by  fits,  by  starts,  'twas  wild. 

5. 

But  thou,  O  Hope!  with  eyes  so  fair, 
What  was  thy  delightful  measure? 
Still  it  whispered  promised  pleasure, 
And  bade  the  lovely  scenes  at  distance  hail ! 

Still  would  her  touch  the  strain  prolong; 
And,  from  the  rocks,  the  woods,  the  vale, 

She  called  on  Echo  still  through  all  her  song; 
And,  where  her  sweetest  theme  she  chose, 
A  soft  responsive  voice  was  heard  at  every  close; 
And  Hope,  enchanted,  smiled,  and  waved  her  golden  hair. 

6. 

And  longer  had  she  sung; — but,  with  a  frown, 
Revenge  impatient  rose. 

He  threw  his  blood-stained  sword,  in  thunder,  down; 
And,  with  a  withering  look, 
The  war-denouncing  trumpet  took, 
And  blew  a  blast,  so  loud  and  dread, 

Were  ne'er  prophetic  sounds  so  full  of  woe ! 
And  ever  and  anon  he  beat 
The  doubling  drum  with  furious  heat; 

And  though  sometimes,  each  dreary  pause  between. 
Dejected  Pity,  at  his  side. 
Her  soul-subduing  voice  applied, 

Yet  still  he  kept  his  wild,  unaltered  mien"; 
While  each  strained  ball  of  sight  seemed  bursting  from 
his  head. 

7.        '       ■ 
Thy  numbers.  Jealousy,  to  naught  were  fij^ed! 

Sad  proof  of  thy  distressful  state ! 
Of  differing  themes  the  veering  song  was  mixed; 


FIFTH    READER.  285 

And  now  it  courted  Love — now  raving,  called 
on  Hate. 

8. 
With  eyes  upraised,  as  one  inspired, 
Pale  Melancholy  sat  retired; 
And,  from  her  wild  sequestered  seat, 
In  notes,  by  distance  made  more  sweet, 
Poured  through  the  mellow  horn  her  pensive  soul; 
And,  dashing  soft,  from  rocks  around, 
Bubbling  runnels  joined  the  sound; 
Through  glades  and  glooms  the  mingled  measure 
stole  : 
Or  o'er  some  haunted  stream,  with  fond  delay. 
Round  a  holy  calm  diffusing. 
Love  of  peace,  and  lonely  musing, 
In  hoUow  murmurs  died  away. 

9. 
But,  oh!  how  altered  was  its  sprightlier  tone. 
When  Cheerfulness,  a  nymph  of  healthiest  hue, 

Her  bow  across  her  shoulder  flung. 
Her  buskins  gemmed  with  morning  dew, 

Blew  an  inspiring  air,  that  dale  and  thicket  rung, 
The  hunter's  call,  to  Faun  and  Dryad  known! 
The  oak-crowned  sisters,  and  their  chaste-eyed 
queen. 
Satyrs  and  sylvan  boys,  were  seen 
Peeping  from  forth  their  alleys  green: 
Brown  Exercise  rejoiced  to  hear. 
And  Sport  leaped  up,  and  seized  his  beechen  spear. 

10. 
Last  came  Joy's  ecstatic  trial, 
He,  with  viny  crown  advancing. 

First  to  the  lively  pipe  his  hand  addressed; 


286  FIFTH    READER. 

But  soon  he  saw  the  brisk  awakening  viol, 

Whose  sweet  entrancing  voice  he  loved  the  best, 
They  would  have  thought,  who  heard  the  strain, 
They  saw,  in  Tempe's  vale,  her  native  maids, 
Amidst  the  festal  sounding  shades. 
To  some  unwearied  minstrel  dancing; 
While,  as  his  flying  fingers  kissed  the  strings, 
Love  framed  with  Mirth  a  gay  fantastic  round: 
(Loose  were  her  tresses  seen,  her  zone  unbound;) 
And  he  amidst  his  frolic  play, — 

As  if  he  would  the  charming  air  repay, — 
Shook  thousand  odors  from  his  dewy  wings. 

William  Collins. 

Dictionary  Lesson.  Find  the  meaning  of  the  following  words : 
sequestered,  pensire,  rmmels,  buskins.  Faun,  Dryad,  satyrs, 
sylyau,  ecstatic.    Write  each  in  a  sentence. 


35.     POETRY. 

Assist  your  pupils  in  marking  this  piece  for  inflection^  emphasis,  and 
pauses. 

1.  Poetry  is  the  record  of  the  best  and  happiest 
moments  of  the  happiest  and  best  minds.  We  are  aware 
of  evanescent  visitations  of  thought  and  feeling,  some- 
times associated  with  place  or  person,  sometimes  regarding 
our  own  mind  alone,  and  always  arising  unforeseen  and 
departing  unbidden,  but  elevating  and  delightful  beyond 
all  expression;  so  that  even  in  the  desire  and  the  regret 
they  leave,  there  cannot  but  be  pleasure,  participating 
as  it  does  in  the  nature  of  its  object. 

2.  It  is,  as  it  were,  the  interpenetration  of  a  diviner 
nature  through  our  own;  but  its  footsteps  are  like  those 
of  a  wind  over  the  sea,  which  the  coming  calm  erases, 
and  whose  traces  remain  only,  as  on  the  wrinkled  sand 
which  paves  it.     These  and  corresponding  conditions  of 


FIFTH    READER.  287 

being  are  experienced  principally  by  those  of  the  most 
delicate  sensibility  and  the  most  enlarged  imagination; 
and  the  state  of  mind  produced  by  them  is  at  war 
with  e\^ry  base  desire.  The  enthusiasm  of  virtue,  love, 
patriotism,  and  friendship  is  essentially  linked  with  such 
emotions;  and  whilst  they  last,  self  appears  as  what  it 
is,  an  atom  to  a  universe. 

3.  Poets  are  not  only  subject  to  these  experiences  as 
spirits  of  the  most  refined  organization,  but  they  can 
color  aU  that  they  combine  with  the  evanescent  hues  of 
this  ethereal  world.  A  word,  a  trait,  in  the  representation 
of  a  scene  or  a  passion  will  touch  the  enchanted  chord, 
and  reanimate,  in  those  who  have  ever  experienced  these 
emotions,  the  sleeping,  the  cold,  the  buried  image  of 
the  past. 

4.  Poetry  thus  makes  immortal  all  that  is  best  and 
most  beautiful  in  the  world;  it  arrests  the  vanishing 
apparitions  which  haunt  the  interlineations  of  life,  and, 
veiling  them,  or  in  language  or  in  form,  sends  them 
forth  among  mankind,  bearing  sweet  news  of  kindred 
joy  to  those  with  whom  their  sisters  abide — abide,  because 
there  is  no  portal  of  expression  from  the  caverns  of 
the  spirit  which  they  inhabit  into  the  universe  of  things. 
Poetry  redeems  from  decay  the  visitations  of  the  divinity 
in  man. 

Shelley. 

Dictionary  Lesson.  Find  the  meaning  of  eyanescent,  erases, 
participate,  interpenetration,  portal,  ethereal,  interlineations, 
atom,  reanimate.  Write  each  in  a  sentence. 


8 

WKITTEN    SPEI.LING.-SYNONYMS. 

Write  a  synonym  for  each  of  the  following  words. 

architect 

antipathy      basis               aroma 

heroic 

pathos            monarch        athletic 

sarcastic 

eulogistic       comic             pedagogue 

288  FIFTH    READER. 


36.     IN   FAYOR   OF   LIBERTY. 

Tell  the  class  the  historical  circumstances  which  led  to  the  delivery 
of  the  sjyeech  hy  Patrick  Henry  in  the   Virginia  House  of  Burgesses. 

Under  your  direction,  let  the  class  marh  this  speech  for  emphasis, 
inflection,  and  pauses. 

1.  Mr.  President,  it  is  natural  for  man  to  indulge  in 
the  illusions  of  hope.  We  are  apt  to  shut  our  eyes 
against  a  painful  truth,  and  listen  to  the  song  of  that 
siren,  till  she  transforms  us  into  beasts.  Is  this  the 
part  of  wise  men  engaged  in  a  great  and  arduous  struggle 
for  liberty!  Are  we  disposed  to  be  of  the  number  of 
those,  who,  having  eyes,  see  not,  and  having  ears,  hear 
not,  the  things  which  so  nearly  concern  their  temporal 
salvation?  For  my  part,  whatever  anguish  of  spirit  it 
may  cost,  I  am  willing  to  know  the  whole  truth j  to 
know  the  worst,  and  to  provide  for  it. 

2.  I  have  but  one  lamp  by  which  my  feet  are  guided; 
and  that  is  the  lamp  of  experience.  I  know  of  no  way 
of  judging  of  the  future  but  by  the  past.  And,  judging 
by  the  past,  I  wish  to  know  what  there  has  been  in  the 
conduct  of  the  British  ministry,  for  the  last  ten  years, 
to  justify  those  hopes  with  which  gentlemen  have  been 
pleased  to  solace  themselves  and  the  house?  Is  it  that 
insidious  smile  with  which  our  petition  has  been  lately 
received?  Trust  it  not,  sir;  it  wiU  prove  a  snare  to 
your  feet.  Suffer  not  yourselves  to  be  betrayed  with  a 
kiss. 

3.  Ask  yourselves,  how  this  gracious  reception  of  our 
petition  comports  with  those  warlike  preparations  which 
cover  our  waters  and  darken  our  land.  Are  fleets  and 
armies  necessary  to  a  work  of  love  and  reconciliation? 
Have  we  shown  ourselves  so  unwilling  to  be  reconciled, 
that  force  must  be  called  in  to  win  back  our  love?  Let 
us   not   deceive   ourselves.      These   are  the  implements 


FIFTH    READER.  289 

of  war  and  subjugation, — ^the  last  arguments  to  which 
kings  resort. 

4.  I  ask  gentlemen,  sir,  what  means  this  martial  array, 
if  its  purpose  be  not  to  force  us  to  submission?  Can 
gentlemen  assign  any  other  possible  motive  for  it  ?  Has 
Great  Britain  any  enemy  in  this  quarter  of  the  world, 
to  call  for  all  this  accumulation  of  navies  and  armies? 
No,  sir  J  she  has  none.  They  are  meant  for  us:  they 
can  be  meant  for  no  other.  They  are  sent  over  to  bind 
and  rivet  upon  us  those  chains  which  the  British  min- 
istry have  been  so  long  forging. 

5.  And  what  have  we  to  oppose  to  them?  Shall  we 
try  argument  ?  Sir,  we  have  been  trying  that  for  the  last 
ten  years.  Have  we  any  thing  new  to  offer  upon  the 
subject?  Nothing.  We  have  held  the  subject  up  in 
every  light  of  which  it  is  capable;  but  it  has  been  aU. 
in  vain.  Shall  we  resort  to  entreaty  and  humble  sup- 
plication? What  terms  shall  we  find,  which  have  not 
been  already  exhausted?  Let  us  not,  I  beseech  you, 
sir,  deceive  ourselves  longer. 

6.  Sir,  we  have  done  everything  that  could  be  done, 
to  avert  the  storm  which  is  now  coming  on.  We  have 
petitioned;  we  have  remonstrated;  we  have  supplicated; 
we  have  prostrated  ourselves  before  the  throne,  and 
implored  its  interposition  to  arrest  the  t^Tannical  hands 
of  the  ministry  and  parliament.  Our  petitions  have  been 
sUghted;  our  remonstrances  have  produced  additional 
violence  and  insult;  our  supplications  have  been  disre- 
garded ;  and  we  have  been  spurned  with  contempt,  from 
the  foot  of  the  throne. 

7.  In  vain,  after  these  things,  may  we  indulge  the 
fond  hope  of  peace  and  reconciliation.  There  is  no 
longer  any  room  for  hope.  If  we  wish  to  be  free;  if  we 
mean  to  preserve  inviolate  those  inestimable  i)rivileges 
for  which  we  have  been  so  long  contending;  if  we  mean 
not  basely  to  abandon  the  noble  struggle  in  which  we 

6-19 


290  FIFTH    READER. 

have  been  so  long  engaged,  and  wliich  we  have  pledged 
ourselves  never  to  abandon,  until  the  glorious  object  of 
our  contest  shall  be  obtained, — we  must  fight !  I  repeat 
it,  sir,  we  must  fight !  An  appeal  to  arms,  and  to  the 
God  of  hosts,  is  all  that  is  left  us. 

8.  They  tell  us,  sir,  we  are  weak ;  unable  to  cope  with  so 
formidable  an  adversary.  But  when  shall  we  be  stronger? 
Will  it  be  the  next  week,  or  the  next  year?  Will  it  be 
w^hen  we  are  totally  disarmed,  and  when  a  British  guard 
shall  be  stationed  in  every  house?  Shall  we  gather 
strength  by  irresolution  and  inaction  ?  Shall  we  acquire 
the  means  of  effectual  resistance  by  lying  supinely  on 
our  backs,  and  hugging  the  delusive  phantom  of  hope, 
until  our  enemies  shall  have  bound  us  hand  and  foot? 

9.  Sir,  we  are  not  weak,  if  we  make  a  proper  use  of 
those  means  which  the  God  of  nature  hath  placed  in 
our  power.  Three  millions  of  people,  armed  in  the  holy 
cause  of  liberty,  and  in  such  a  country  as  that  which 
we  possess,  are  invincible  by  any  force  which  our  enemy 
can  send  against  us.  Besides,  sir,  we  shall  not  fight 
our  battles  alone.  There  is  a  juct  God,  who  presides 
over  the  destinies  of  nations;  and  who  will  raise  up 
friends  to  fight  our  battles  for  us. 

10.  The  battle,  sir,  is  not  to  the  strong  alone;  it  is  to 
the  vigilant,  the  active,  the  brave.  Besides,  sir,  we  have 
no  election.  If  we  were  base  enough  to  desire  it,  it  is 
now  too  late  to  retire  from  the  contest.  There  is  no  re- 
treat, but  in  submission  and  slavery!  Our  chains  are 
forged.  Their  clanking  may  be  heard  on  the  plains  of 
Boston !  The  war  is  inevitable ;  and,  let  it  come !  I 
repeat  it,  sir,  let  it  come! 

11.  It  is  in  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate  the  matter.  Gentle- 
men may.cry,  "Peace,  peace;"  but  there  is  no  peace.  The 
war  has  actually  begun!  The  next  gale  that  sweeps 
from  the  north  will  bring  to  our  ears  the  clash  of  re- 
sounding arms!     Our  brethren  are  already  in  the  field! 


FIFTH    READER.  291 

Why  stand  we  here  idle  ?  What  is  it  that  the  p^entle- 
men  wish  ?  What  woidd  they  have  ?  Is  life  so  dear,  or 
peace  so  sweet,  as  to  be  purchased  at  the  price  of  chains 
and  slavery?  Forbid  it,  Almighty  God!  I  know  not 
what  course  others  may  takej  but,  as  for  me,  give  me 
liberty,  or  give  me  death! 

Patrick  Henuy. 


37.     THE   CONSTITUTION   AND   UNION. 

Marh  this  extract  for  injlection  and  emphasis,  and  then  require  the 
boys  of  the  class  to  memorize  it  for  declamation. 

1.  For  myself,  I  propose,  sir,  to  abide  by  the  principles 
and  the  purposes  which  I  have  avowed.  I  shall  stand 
by  the  Union,  and  by  all  who  stand  by  it.  I  shall  do 
justice  to  the  whole  country,  according  to  the  best  of 
my  ability,  in  aU  I  say,  and  act  for  the  good  of  the 
whole  country  in  all  I  do.  I  mean  to  stand  upon  the 
Constitution.  I  need  no  other  platform.  I  shall  know 
but  one  country. 

2.  The  ends  I  aim  at  shall  be  my  country's,  my  God's, 
and  Truth's.  I  was  bom  an  American;  I  will  live  an 
American  J  I  shall  die  an  American;  and  I  intend  to 
perform  the  duties  incumbent  upon  me  in  that  character 
to  the  end  of  my  career.  I  mean  to  do  this,  with  the 
absolute  disregard  of  personal  consequences. 

3.  What  are  personal  consequences?  What  is  the 
individual  man,  with  all  the  good  or  evil  that  may 
betide  him,  in  comparison  with  the  good  or  evil  which 
may  befall  a  great  country  in  a  crisis  Kke  this,  and  in 
the  midst  of  great  transactions  which  concern  that 
country's  fate  ?  Let  the  consequences  be  what  they  will. 
I  am  careless.  No  man  can  suffer  too  much,  and  no 
man  can  fall  too  soon,  if  he  suffer  or  if  he  fall  in 
defense  of  the  liberties  and  Constitution  of  his  country. 

Websteb, 


292  FIFTH    READER, 


YII.     VOCAL   Ti^AJiVTJVG^— Pronunciation. 

Good  pronunciation  depends  largely  on  the  fullness 
and  purity  with  which  the  vowel  sounds  are  given.  The 
marked  provincialisms  in  our  country,  consist  chiefly  in 
the  peculiar  shades  of  sound  given  to  certain  vowels. 
The  school  is  the  proper  place  for  training  pupils  to 
correct  the  faults  of  home  or  society  pronunciation. 

It  is  the  object  of  the  following  drill  exercises  to 
train  the  ear  to  the  correct  sound;  the  voice  to  coiTcct 
enunciation;  and  the  eye,  to  the  meaning  and  use  of 
the  diacritical  marks  in  the  dictionary. 

I.     WORDS    OFTEN   MISPRONOUNCED. 

I.    Itahan  a,  as  in  are. 
In  the  following  words  give  a  iisfully  open,  Italian  sound.   The  teacher 
should  first  pronounce  each  word,  and  require  the  class  to  repeat,  in 
concert,  after  him. 


calf 

psalm 

haunt 

gua'va 

haK 

salve 

gaunt 

gua'no 

laugh 

wrath 

flaunt 

laun'dry 

bath 

lath 

jaunt 

pla'za 

path 

aunt 

taunt 

saun'ter 

palm 

daunt 

launch 

jaun'dice 

II.    Intermediate  a, 

as  in 

ask. 

ask 

chant 

class 

last 

aft'er 

bask 

chance 

glass 

cast 

bas'ket 

task 

dance 

grass 

aft 

cask'et 

flask 

glance 

mass 

draft 

mas'ter 

mask 

lance 

pass 

gasp 

alas' 

ant 

trance 

past 

rasp 

com  mand' 

FIFTH    READER. 

Ill,     Sound  of  a,  as  in  hM. 


293 


bMe 

an'swer 

pat'ent 

r^'tion  al 

piaid 

Mr' row 

rath'er 

rSil'le  ry 

cS-tch 

mS,r'ry 

nS,'tion  al 

pS.t'ron  age 

latch 

pS,t'teni 

iSn'dau 

grat'i  tude 

IV.     Sound  of  a,  as  in  c^e. 


air 

there 

par'ent 

scar^e'ly 

bear 

where 

fair'y 

scar'^i  ty 

hHir 

square 

char'y 

par'ent  age 

dare 

snare 

rarely 

be  ware' 

V.     Short  i  in  unaccented  syllables. 


do^'ile 

fer'tne 

siib'tile 

fem'i  nine 

du^'tile 

hos'tile 

ster'ile 

ggn'u  ine 

en'^ne 

san'gujfne 

jti'ven  lie 

her'o  ine 

fu'tile 

ll^'o  ri^e 

me^h'an  1st 

nu'tri  tive 

VI.     Sound  of  o,  as  in  ford. 


bone 

colt 

most 

on'ly 

both 

folks 

spoke 

o'ral 

choke 

home 

won't 

whoriy 

boat 

road 

porch 

mourn 

coat 

door 

source 

throat 

toast 

pour 

hoarse 

brooch 

VII.     Sound  of  o,  as  in  cot. 


dog 
god 
got 


c6st 
lost 
long 


don 'key 

fSre'head 

Sr'ange 


prSd'u^e 
prod'uct 
pro^'ess 


phon'ic 

cSf'fee 

prog'ress 


294 


FIFTH    READER. 


VIII. 

Sound  of 

oo,  as 

in  boon. 

hoof 

spoon 

do 

you 

route 

hoop 

roof 

school 

to 

your 

wound 

group 

root 

soon 

too 

yours 

truth 

grew 

boot 

noon 

two 

tour 

rule 

through 

brute 

fruit 

rude 

true 

ru'ral 

truly 

IX. 

Sound  of  u,  as  in 

pure. 

mu§e 

due 

hew 

juice 

lure 

du'ty 

tube 

dew 

new 

sluice 

ewe 

beau'ty 

tune 

hue 

view 

jute 

lute 

mu'§ic 

huge 

cue 

mew 

duke 

•cube 

bu'gle 

mule 

1 

dupe 

flew 

mti'ral 

du'el 

€u'bit 

X.     Miscellaneous. 

Be  careful  to  distinguish  the  difference  hetween  the  pronunciation  of 
each  pair  of  words. 


law 

lore 

gnaw 

nor 

ah! 

are 

awe 

ore 

■eaw 

core 

awe 

or 

paw 

pore 

raw 

roar 

•eorse 

■course 

sauQe 

sourge 

due 

do 

yore 

your 

saw 

sore 

few 

two 

pour 

peor 

n.     VOWEI.    SOUNDS   IN   UNACCENTED    SYI^IiABUES. 

I.    Final  ar,  er,  ir,  or,  ur,  and  yr. 

The  vowels  a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  and  y,  followed  by  r,  in  unaccented  final  syl- 
lables, have  the  sound  of  er  as  in  her,  slightly  obscured. 


beg'gar 

ban'ner 

arlnor 

siil'phur 

dollar 

man'ner 

<i6ror 

zeph'yr 

polar 

ta'pir 

mur'mur 

mar'tyr 

gellar 

na'dir 

fe'mur 

■eow'ard 

FIFTH    READER.  295 

II.    Unaccented  a  verging  to  short  e. 
In  words  like  the  following,  -lige  and  -ate  =  ej  and  et 


dSm'age  till' age  sSn'ate  af  f&e'tion  ate 

lug' gage         vll'lage         S,g'ate  il  Ut'er  ate 


III.     Short  a  unaccented. 

In  the  first  syllable  of  words  like  the  following,  a  has  the  sound 
of  short  a,  or  a  as  in  ask,  verging  to  short  u,  sometimes  called  ob- 
scure a. 


a  bove'  a  gain'  a  ri§e'  ma  ghine' 

a  bout'  a  las  '  a  bound'        ma  rine' 


rv.     Sound  of  a  verging  to  short  u. 

In  words  like  the  following,  the  sound  of  short  u,  as  in  up,  is 
slightly  observed. 


fi'nal  bal'an^e  serv'ant  gx'tra 

le'gal  or'phan  fire'man  bal'sam 


V.    Words  having  e  and  o  silent  before  h  and  1. 

There  is  a  large  class  of  words  like  the  following,  that  have  e  or 
0  silent  before  n  or  1,  as:  heaven  =  heavn,  reckon  =  reekn. 


but'ton  e'vil  kit'ten  5ft'en 

bea'-eon  ea'§el  16s'son  rai'sin 


Bequire  each  pupil  to  bring  into  the  class  a  list  of  ten  additional  words. 

VI.     Sound  of  unaccented  u. 

In  words  of  two  syllables,  the  suffix  -ure  is  sounded  like  -yer,  or 
yoor,  as:   creat'ure  =  creat'yer,  or  creat'yoor. 


•ereat'ure  verd'ure  feat'ure  mea§'ure 

■eult'ure  past'ure  strii«t'ure       plea§'ure 


296 


FIFTH    READER. 


38.     JOHN   MILTON. 


1.  John  Milton  was  born  in  London  in  1G08,  and  died 
in  1674.  His  father  gave  him  a  special  preparation  for 
a  literary  career.  After  graduating  at  the  University 
of  Cambridge,  he  took  np  his  residence  in  his  father's 
country  seat,  where  he  lived  &v.e  years,  devoting  his 
time  most  assiduously  to  classical  literature,  making  the 
well-known  remark,  that  he  "cared  not  how  late  he 
came  into  life,  only  that  he  came  fit.'' 

2.  At  this  time  he  wrote  "II  Penseroso,"  and  "L 'Alle- 
gro." At  the  age  of  twenty-one  he  wrote  his  grand  poem, 
"Christ's  Nativity." 

3.  After  the  restoration  of  Charles  the  Second,  he 
led    a    secluded    life,    occupied    in    the    composition    of 


FIFTH    READER.  297 

"Paradise  Lost/'  believing  that  he  might  "leave  some- 
thing so  written  to  after-times  as  they  should  not 
willingly  let  it  die."  The  first  edition  was  sold  by  him 
for  five  pounds. 

4.  The  subject  of  this  poem  is  so  grand  and  awful, — ^the 
action  moving  among  celestial  and  infernal  personages 
and  scenes, — that  the  mind  is  fatigued  with  the  effort 
to  accompany  the  poet  in  his  sublime  flights  j  and 
it  is  only  a  reader  familiar  with  classical  and  biblical 
literature  that  can  fully  appreciate  the  poet's  allusions. 

5.  Yet  every  one  perhaps  can  feel  the  grandeur  of 
his  comparisons  and  the  beauty  of  such  passages  as 
"The  Morning  H^nnn,"  "Evening  in  Paradise/'  and 
"Eve's  Lament  on  Leaving  Paradise." 


39.    INVOCATION   OF    MIRTH   [L,'ALLEG-RO]. 

This  poem  should  he  read  with  joyous  animation  and  quick,  lively 
movement. 

Haste  thee,  nymph,  and  bring  with  thee 

Jest,  and  youthful  Jollity, 

Quips,  and  cranks,  and  wanton  wiles, 

Nods,  and  becks,  and  wreathed  smiles, 

Such  as  hang  on  Hebe's  cheek, 

And  love  to  live  in  dimple  sleek; 

Sport,  that  wrinkled  Care  derides. 

And  Laughter  holding  both  his  sides. 

Come,  and  trip  it  as  ye  go 

On  the  light  fantastic  toe; 

And  in  thy  right  hand  lead  with  thee, 

The  mountain-nymph,  sweet  Liberty; 

And,  if  I  give  thee  honor  due. 

Mirth,  admit  me  of  thy  crew. 

To  live  with  her,  and  live  with  thee, 


298  FIFTH    READER. 

In  unreproved  pleasures  free  5 

To  hear  the  lark  begin  his  flight, 

Andj  singing,  startle  the  dull  Night 

From  his  watch-tower  in  the  skies, 

Till  the  dappled  dawn  doth  risej 

Then  to  come,  in  spite  of  sorrow, 

And  at  my  window  bid  good-morrow, 

Through  the  sweet-brier,  or  the  vine, 

Or  the  twisted  eglantine. 

While  the  plowman  near  at  hand 

Whistles  o'er  the  furrowed  land, 

And  the  milkmaid  singeth  blithe, 

And  the  mower  whets  his  scythe. 

And  every  shepherd  tells  his  tale, 

Under  the  hawthorn  in  the  dale. 

Straight  mine  eye  hath  caught  new  pleasures, 

While  the  landscape  round  it  measures — 

Eusset  lawns  and  fallows  gray, 

Where  the  nibbling  flocks  do  stray, 

Meadows  trim  with  daisies  pied, 

Shallow  brooks  and  rivers  wide. 

Sometimes  with  secure  delight 

The  upland  hamlets  will  invite. 

When  the  merry  bells  ring  round, 

And  the  jocund  rebecs  sound 

To  many  a  youth  and  many  a  maid. 

Dancing  in  the  checkered  shade  j 

And  young  and  old  come  forth  to  play 

On  a  sunshine  holiday, 

Till  the  livelong  daylight  fail. 

John  Milton. 

DEFINITIONS. 

He'be,  the  goddess  of  youth..  I    "  tells  his  tale,"  counts  his  flock, 

quip,  a  smart,  sarcastic  turn.        )    re'bec,  a  peculiar  kind  of  violin. 

Defining  Review.    Let  the  pupils  choose  sides.    Dictate  words  from 
all  previous  defining  and  dictionary  lessons  in  Fart  IL 


FIFTH    READER.  299 

40.     MORNING-   HYMN. 
Marh  this  extract  for  rhetorical  jpauses. 

These  are  thy  glorious  worlcs,  Parent  of  goody 
Almighty!     Thine  this  universal  frdmej 
Thus  wondrous  fair;    thijself  hoiv  wondrous  then, 
Unspeakable!  who  sitt'st  above  these  heavens, 
To  us  invisible,  or  dimly  seen 
In  these  thy  lowest  works;  yet  these  declare 
Thy  goodness  beyond  thought,  and  power  divine. 
Speak,  ye  who  best  can  tell,  ye  sons  of  light, 
Angels;  for  ye  behold  him,  and  with  songs 
And  choral  symphonies,  day  without  night. 
Circle  his  throne  rejoicing;   ye  in  SeaveUj 
On  earthy  join  dll  ye  creatures  to  extol 
Him  first,  him  last,  him  midst,  and  without  end. 
Fairest  of  stdrs,  last  in  the  train  of  night. 
If  better  thou  belong  not  to  the  dawn, 
Sure  pledge  of  day,  that  cro^vn'st  the  smiling  morn 
With  thy  bright  circlet,  praise  him  in  thy  sphere. 
While  dciy  arises,  that  sweet  hour  of  prime. 
Thou  sun,  of  this  great  world  both  eye  and  soul, 
Acknowledge  him  thy  greater,  sound  his  praise 
In  thy  eternal  course,  both  when  thou  climb'st. 
And  when  high  noon  hast  gained,  and  when  thou  fdlVst. 
Moon,  that  now  meet'st  the  orient  sun,  now  fli'st, 
With  the  fixed  stars,  fixed  in  their  orb  that  flies  j 
And  ye  five  btlier  wand'ring  fires,  that  move 
In  mystic  dance,  not  without  song,  resound 
His  praise,  who  out  of  darkness  called  up  light, 
A\r,  and  ye  elements,  the  eldest  birth 
Of  nature's  womb,  that  in  quaternion  run 
Perpetual  circle,  multiform,  and  mix. 
And  nourish  cill  things,  let  your  ceaseless  change 
Vary  to  our  great  Maker  still  new  praise. 


300  FIFTH    READEIt. 

His  praise,  ye  winds,  that  from  four  quarters  blow, 
Breathe  soft  or  loud;   and  wave  your  tops,  ye  plneSy 
With  every  plant,  in  sign  of  tvorship,  wave.     ' 
Fountains,  and  ye  that  warble  as  ye  flow. 
Melodious  murmurs,  warbling,  tune  his  prdise. 
Join  voices  all,  ye  living  souls;   ye  birds. 
That  singing  up  to  Heaven's  gate  ascend, 
Bear  on  your  wings,  and  in  your  notes  his  prdise. 

From  Milton's  Paradise  Lost. 

Dictionary  Lesson.    Find  the  meaning  of  symphonies,  extol, 
orient,  quaternion,  perpetual,  multiform. 


41.     BOOKS. 

1.  It  is  chiefly  through  books  that  we  enjoy  intercourse 
with  superior  minds,  and  these  invaluable  means  of 
communication  are  in  the  reach  of  all.  In  the  best 
books  great  men  talk  to  ns,  give  us  their  most  precious 
thoughts,  and  pour  their  souls  into  ours.  God  be 
thanked  for  books.  They  are  the  voices  of  the  distant 
and  the  dead,  and  make  us  heirs  of  the  spiritual  life 
of  past  ages.  Books  are  the  true  levelers.  They  give 
to  aU,  who  will  faithfully  use  them,  the  society,  the 
spiritual  presence  of  the  best  and  greatest  of  our  race. 

2.  No  matter  how  poor  I  am, — no  matter  though  the 
prosperous  of  my  own  time  will  not  enter  my  obscure 
dwelling, — ^if  the  sacred  writers  wiU  enter  and  take  up 
their  abode  under  my  roof, — if  Milton  wiU.  cross  my 
threshold  to  sing  to  me  of  Paradise,  and  Shakespeare 
to  open  to  me  the  worlds  of  imagination  and  the  work- 
ings of  the  human  heart,  and  Franklin  to  enrich  me 
with  his  practical  wisdom,  I  shall  not  pine  for  want  of 
intellectual  companionship,  and  I  may  become  a  culti- 
vated man,  though  excluded  from  what  is  called  the 
best  society  in  the  place  where  I  live.  channing. 


FIFTH    READER.  301 


42.    THE   CRICKET   ON  THE   HEARTH. 

1.  The  kettle  began  it!  Don't  teU  me  what  Mrs.  Peery- 
bingle  said.  I  know  better.  Mrs.  Peerybingle  may  leave 
it  on  record  to  the  end  of  time  that  she  couldn't  say 
which  of  them  began  itj  but,  I  say  the  kettle  did.  I 
ought  to  know,  I  hope!  The  kettle  began  it,  full  five 
minutes  by  the  little  waxy-faced  Dutch  clock  in  the 
corner,  before  the  cricket  uttered  a  chirp. 

2.  Why,  I  am  not  naturally  positive.  Every  one  knows 
that  I  wouldn't  set  my  own  opinion  against  the  opinion 
of  Mrs.  Peerybingle,  unless  I  were  quite  sure,  on  any 
account  whatever.  Nothing  should  induce  me.  But  this 
is  a  question  of  fact.  And  the  fact  is,  that  the  kettle 
began  it,  at  least  five  minutes  before  the  cricket  gave 
any  sign  of  being  in  existence.  Contradict  me,  and  I'U 
say  ten. 

3.  Let  me  narrate  exactly  how  it  happened.  I  should 
have  proceeded  to  do  so,  in  my  very  first  word,  but  for 
this  plain  consideration — ^if  I  am  to  tell  a  story  I  must 
begin  at  the  beginning;  and  how  is  it  possible  to  begin 
at  the  beginning,  without  beginning  at  the  kettle?  It 
appears  as  if  there  were  a  sort  of  match,  or  trial  of 
skill,  you  must  understand,  between  the  kettle  and  the 
cricket.  And  this  is  what  led  to  it,  and  how  it  came 
about. 

4.  Mrs.  Peerybingle,  going  out  into  the  raw  twilight, 
and  clicking  over  the  wet  stones  in  a  pair  of  pattens 
that  worked  innumerable  rough  impressions  of  the  first 
proposition  in  Euclid  aU  about  the  yard — Mrs.  Peery- 
bingle filled  the  kettle  at  the  water-butt.  Presently  re- 
turning, less  the  pattens  (and  a  good  deal  less,  for  they 
were  tall  and  Mrs.  Peerybingle  was  but  short),  she  set 
the  kettle  on  the  fire. 

6.  In  doing  which  she  lost  her  temper,  or  mislaid  it 


302  FIFTH    READER. 

for  an  instant;  for,  the  water  being  uncomfortably  cold, 
and  in  that  slippy,  slushy,  sleety  sort  of  state  wherein 
it  seems  to  penetrate  through  every  kind  of  substance, 
patten-rings  included — had  laid  hold  of  Mrs.  Peery- 
bingle's  toes,  and  even  splashed  her.  Besides,  the  kettle 
was  aggravating  and  obstinate.  It  would  n't  allow  itself 
to  be  adjusted  on  the  top  bar;  it  wouldn't  hear  of  ac- 
commodating itself  kindly  to  the  knobs  of  coal;  it  tvould 
lean  forward  with  a  drunken  air,  and  dribble,  a  very- 
idiot  of  a  kettle,  on  the  hearth.  It  was  quarrelsome, 
and  hissed  and  spluttered  morosely  at  the  fire. 

6.  To  sum  up  all,  the  lid,  resisting  Mrs.  Peerybingle's 
fingers,  first  of  aU  turned  topsy-turvy,  and  then,  with 
an  ingenious  pertinacity  deserving  of  a  better  cause, 
dived  sideways  in — down  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  kettle. 
And  the  huU.  of  the  Eoyal  George  has  never  made  half 
the  monstrous  resistance  to  coming  out  of  the  water, 
which  the  lid  of  that  kettle  employed  against  Mrs. 
Peerybingle,  before  she  got  it  up  again.  It  looked  suUen 
and  pig-headed  enough,  even  then;  carrying  its  handle 
with  an  air  of  defiance,  and  cocking  its  spout  pertly  and 
mockingly  at  Mrs.  Peerybingle,  as  if  it  said,  "I  won't 
boil.    Nothing  shall  induce  me." 

7.  Now  it  was,  you  observe,  that  the  kettle  began  to 
spend  the  evening.  Now  it  was,  that  the  kettle,  grow- 
ing mellow  and  musical,  began  to  have  irrepressible 
gurghngs  in  its  throat,  and  to  indulge  in  short  vocal 
snorts,  which  it  checked  in  the  bud,  as  if  it  had  n't  quite 
made  up  its  mind  yet  to  be  good  company.  Now  it 
was,  that  after  two  or  three  such  vain  attempts  to  stifle 
its  convivial  sentiments,  it  threw  off  all  moroseness,  all 
reserve,  and  burst  into  a  stream  of  song  so  cosy  and 
hilarious,  as  never  maudhn  nightingale  yet  formed  the 
least  idea  of. 

8.  And  here,  if  you  like,  the  cricket  did  chime  in 
with  a  chirrup,  chirrup,  cliirrup,  of  such  magnitude,  by 


FIFTH    READER.  303 

way  of  chorus;  with  a  voice,  so  astoundingly  dispro- 
portionate to  its  size,  as  compared  with  the  kettle,  (size ! 
you  couldn't  see  it!)  that  if  it  had,  then  and  there,  burst 
ifself  like  an  overcharged  gun,  if  it  had  fallen  a  victim 
on  the  spot,  and  chirruped  its  little  body  into  fifty  pieces, 
it  would  have  seemed  a  natural  and  inevitable  conse- 
quence, for  which  it  had  expressly  labored. 

9.  There  was  all  the  excitement  of  a  race  about  it. 
Chirp,  chirp,  chirp !  Cricket  a  mile  ahead.  Hum,  hum, 
hum — ^m — m !  Kettle  making  play  in  the  distance,  like 
a  great  top.  Chirp,  chirp,  chirp !  Cricket  round  the 
corner.  Hum,  hum,  hum — m — m!  Kettle  sticking  to 
him  in  his  own  way ;  no  idea  of  giving  in.  Chirp,  chirp, 
chirp!  Cricket  fresher  than  ever.  Hum,  hum,  hum — 
m — m!  Kettle  slow  and  steady.  Chirp,  chirp,  chirp! 
Cricket  going  in  to  finish  him.  Hum,  hum,  hum — ^m — 
m!  Kettle  not  to  be  finished.  Until  at  last,  they  got 
so  jumbled  together,  in  the  hurry-skurry,  helter-skelter 
of  the  match,  that  whether  the  kettle  chirped  and  the 
cricket  hummed,  or  the  cricket  chirped  and  the  kettle 
hummed,  or  they  both  chirped  and  both  hummed,  it 
would  have  taken  a  clearer  head  than  yours  or  mine  to 
have  decided  with  any  thing  like  certainty. 

10.  But,  of  this,  there  is  no  doubt :  that  the  kettle  and 
the  cricket,  at  one  and  the  same  moment,  and  by  some 
power  of  amalgamation  best  known  to  themselves,  sent, 
each,  his  fireside  song  of  comfort  streaming  into  a  ray 
of  the  candle  that  shone  out  through  the  window,  and 
a  long  way  down  the  lane.  And  this  light,  bursting  on 
a  certain  person  who,  on  the  instant,  approached  towards 
it  through  the  gloom,  expressed  the  whole  thing  to  him, 
literally  in  a  twinkling,  and  cried,  "Welcome  home,  old 
fellow !     Welcome  home,  my  boy ! "  chaeles  dickexs. 

Using  Words.  Use  each  of  these  words  in  a  sentence  of  yoin- 
own:  patteii-rings^  moroseness^  hilarious^  water-butt,  jumbled, 
amalgamation. 


304  FIFTH    READER. 


43.     BRUTUS   AND   CASSIUS. 

Cassius.     That  you  have  wronged  me  doth  appear  in 
this: 
You  have  condemned  and  noted  Lucius  Pella, 
For  taking  bribes  here  of  the  Sardians; 
Wherein,  my  letters  (praying  on  his  side, 
Because  I  knew  the  man)  were  slighted  off. 

Brutus.    You  wronged  yourself,  to  write  in  such  a  case, 

Cassius.    At  such  a  time  as  this,  it  is  not  meet 
That  every  nice  offense  should  bear  its  comment. 

Brutus.    Let  me  tell  you,  Cassius,  you  yourself 
Are  much  condemned  to  have  an  itching  palmj 
To  sell  and  mart  your  offices  for  gold, 
To  undeservers. 

Cassius.    I  an  itching  palm  ! 
You  know  that  you  are  Brutus  that  speak  this. 
Or,  by  the  gods,  this  speech  were  else  your  last! 

Brutus.     The  name  of  Cassius  honors  this  corruption, 
And  chastisement  doth  therefore  hide  its  head. 

Cassius.     Chastisement ! 

Brutus.    Remember    March,    the    ides    of    March    re- 
member ! 
Did  not  great  Julius  bleed  for  justice'  sake? 
What  villain  touched  his  body,  that  did  stab. 
And  not  for  justice  ? — ^What !   shall  one  of  us. 
That  struck  the  foremost  man  of  all  tliis  world 
But  for  supporting  robbers, — shall  we  now 
Contaminate  our  fingers  with  base  bribes. 
And  sell  the  mighty  space  of  our  large  honors 
For  so  much  trash  as  may  be  grasped  thus? — 
I  had  rather  be  a  dog,  and  bay  the  moon. 
Than  such  a  Roman. 

Cassius.    Brutus,  bay  not  me, — 
I'll  not  endure  it.     You  forget  yourself, 


FIFTH    READER.  305 

To  hedge  me  inj   I  am  a  soldier,  I, 
Older  in  practice,  abler  than  yourseK 
To  make  conditions. 

Brutus.     Go  to!   you're  not,  Cassins. 

Cassius.    I  am. 

Brutus.    I  say  you  are  not. 

Cassius.     Urge  me  no  more:   I  shall  forget  myself j 
Have  mind  upon  your  health:   tempt  me  no  further. 

Brutus.    Away,  slight  man! 

Cassius.    Is 't  possible  ! 

Brutus.     Hear  me,  for  I  wiU.  speak. 
Must  I  give  way  and  room  to  your  rash  choler? 
Shall  I  be  frighted  when  a  madman  stares? 

Cassius.     O  ye  gods !  ye  gods !    Must  I  endure  all  this  ? 

Brutus.    All  this  !  ay,  more:  fret  till  your  proud  heart 
break. 
Go,  show  your  slaves  how  choleric  you  arc. 
And  make  your  bondmen  tremble.     Must  I  budge? 
Must  I  observe  you?    Must  I  stand  and  crouch 
Under  your  testy  humor?    By  the  gods. 
You  shall  digest  the  venom  of  your  spleen, 
Though  it  do  split  you!  for,  from  this  day  forth, 
I'll  use  you  for  my  mirth j   yea,  for  my  laughter, 
When  you  are  waspish. 

Cassius.    Is  it  come  to  this? 

Brutus.     You  say  you  are  a  better  soldier: 
Let  it  appear  so;   make  your  vaunting  true, 
And  it  shall  please  me  well.     For  mine  own  part, 
I  shall  be  glad  to  learn  of  noble  men. 

Cassius.     You  ^Tong  me;   every  way  you  wrong  me, 
Brutus ; 
I  said,  an  elder  soldier,  not  a  better. 
Did  I  say,  better? 

Brutus.    If  ygu  did,  I  care  not. 

Cassius.     When  Caesar  lived,  he  durst  not  thus  have 
moved  me. 

5-20 


306  FIFTH    READERo 

Brutus.     Peace,  peace !  you  durst  not  so  have  tempted 
him. 

Cassius.     I  durst  not! 

Brutus.    No. 

Cassius.    What !     Durst  not  tempt  him  1 

Brutus.     For  your  life,  you  durst  not. 

Cassius.     Do   not  presume  too  much  upon  my  love; 
I  may  do  that  I  shall  be  sorry  for. 

Brutus.     You  have  done  that  you  should  be  sorry  for. 
There  is  no  terror,  Cassius,  in  your  threats; 
For  I  am  armed  so  strong  in  honesty. 
That  they  pass  by  me  as  the  idle  wind. 
Which  I  respect  not.     I  did  send  to  you 
For  certain  sums  of  gold,  which  you  denied  me; — 
For  I  can  raise  no  money  by  vile  means: 
By  heaven,  I  had  rather  coin  my  heart. 
And  drop  my  blood  for  drachmas,  than  to  wring 
From  the  hard  hands  of  peasants  their  vile  trash 
By  any  indirection. — I  did  send 
To  you  for  gold  to  pay  my  legions,; 
Which  you  denied  me:   was  that  done  like  Cassius? 
Should  I  have  answered  Caius  Cassius  so? 
When  Marcus  Brutus  grows  so  covetous. 
To  lock  such  rascal  counters  from  his  friends, 
Be  ready,  gods,  with  all  your  thunderbolts; 
Dash  him  to  pieces ! 

Cassius.     I  denied  you  not. 

Brutus.     You  did. 

Cassius.    I  did  not; — he  was  but  a  fool 
That  brought  my  answer  back.— Brutus  hath  rived  my 

heart : 
A  friend  should  bear  a  friend's  infirmities. 
But  Brutus  makes  mine  greater  than  they  are. 

Brutus.     I  do  not,  till  you  practice  them  on  me, 

Cassius.     You  love  me  not. 

Brutus.    I  do  not  like  your  faults. 


FIFTH    READER.  307 

Casmts.    A  friendly  eye  could  never  see  such,  faults, 

Brutus.    A  flatterer's  would  not,  though  they  do  appeal 
As  huge  as  high  Olympus. 

Cassius.    Come,  Antony,  and  young  Octavius,  come! 
Revenge  yourselves  alone  on  Cassius; 
For  Cassius  is  a- weary  of  the  world — 
Hated  by  one  he  loves;   braved  by  his  brother; 
Checked  like  a  bondman;   all  his  faults  observed, 
Set  in  a  note-book,  learned,  and  conned  by  rote. 
To  cast  into  my  teeth.     O,  I  could  weep 
My  spirit  from  mine  eyes! — There  is  my  dagger, 
And  here  my  naked  breast;   within,  a  heart 
Dearer  than  Plutus'  mine,  richer  than  gold: 
If  that  thou  be'st  a  Roman,  take  it  forth; 
I,  that  denied  thee  gold,  will  give  my  heart: 
Strike,  as  thou  didst  at  Caesar;   for,  I  know. 
When   thou   didst  hate   him  worst,   thou  lovedst   him 

better 
Than  ever  thou  lovedst  Cassius. 

Brutus.     Sheathe  your  dagger: 
Be  angry  when  you  will,  it  shall  have  scope; 
Do  what  you  will,  dishonor  shall  be  humor. 
O  Cassius,  you  are  yoked  with  a  lamb, 
That  carries  anger,  as  the  flint  bears  fire; 
Wlio,  much  enforced,  shows  a  hasty  spark, 
And  straight  is  cold  again. 

Cassius.    Hath  Cassius  lived 
To  be  but  mirth  and  laughter  to  his  Brutus, 
When  grief  and  blood,  ill-tempered,  vexeth  him? 

Brutus.    When  I  spoke  that,  I  was  ill-tempered  too. 

Cassius.    Do  you  confess  so  much?    Give  me  your 
hand. 

Brutus.     And  my  heart  too. 

Cassius.     O  Brutus! 

Brutus.    What's  the  matter? 

Cassius.    Have  you  not  love  enough  to  bear  with  me. 


308  FIFTH    READER. 

When  that  rash  humor  which  my  mother  gave  me, 
Makes  me  forgetful! 

Brutus.  Yes,  Cassius;  and  from  henceforth, 
When  you  are  over-earnest  with  your  Brutus, 
He'll  think  your  mother  chides,  and  leave  you  so. 

Shakespeake's  Julius  Csesar. 


4A.     ASTROLOGY. 

1.  The  stars  were  formerly  believed  to  govern  the 
fate  of  a  person  in  life.  The  temper  was  said  to  be 
good  or  bad;  the  nature,  grave  or  gay,  according  to 
the  planet  that  was  in  the  ascendant,  as  it  was  called, 
at  a  person's  birth.  We  still  speak  of  a  disaster,  which 
means,  literally,  the  stroke  or  blast  of  an  unlucky  star. 
We  call  an  unlucky  person  '411-starred." 

2.  Grave  and  gloomy  people  are  called  saturnine^  be- 
cause those  born  under  the  planet  Saturn  were  said  to 
be  so  disposed.  Merry  people  are  called  jovial,  which 
literally  means,  born  under  the  planet  Jupiter,  or  Jove. 

3.  Active  and  sprightly  people  are  called  mercurialj 
that  is,  born  under  the  planet  Mercury.  Mad  people 
are  called  lunatics,  that  is,  those  who  are  born  under 
the  influence  of  the  Moon.  It  was  formerly  believed 
that  the  actions  of  the  insane  were  influenced  by  the 
changes  of  the  moon.  The  sun,  moon,  and  stars  were 
all  thought  to  be  fixed  to  the  great  heaven,  because  it 
seemed  to  be  a  great  arch  heaved  up  over  the  flat 
earth. 

4.  Astrologers  were  persons  that  pretended  to  teU 
fortunes  by  observing  the  condition  of  the  heavens. 
Educated  people  no  longer  believe  these  absurd  super- 
stitions, but  many  ilhterate  persons  are  still  imposed 
on  by  astrologers  and  fortune-tellers. 

Adapted  from  Clodd, 


FIFTH    READER 


309 


^.^% 


^   "■'"■ 


45.     RALPH   WALDO   EMERSON. 


1.  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  was  born  in  Boston,  in  1803, 
and  died  in  Concord,  Mass.,  in  1882.  For  five  years 
after  leaving  Harvard  College  he  assisted  an  elder 
brother  in  teaching  a  school  for  girls,  but  the  occupa- 
tion was  distasteful.  He  then  studied  divinity  and 
became  the  pastor  of  a  church  in  Boston. 

2.  In  a  few  years  he  resigned  the  position,  and,  after 
traveling  in  Europe,  retired  to  the  quiet  village  of  Con- 
cord, whence  he  went  forth  to  lecture  in  different  parts 
of  the  land.  No  other  man  has  rendered  such  contin- 
uous service  in  this  field. 

3.  His  writings  stir  the  mind  and  awaken  in  it  a  de- 
sire  to   act    the   manly    part   and   to   put  forth  aU  its 


310  FIFTH    READER. 

energies.  Many  have  acknowledged  their  obligations  to 
him;  among  them  such  men  as  Carlyle,  Tyndall,  and 
Lowell.  Emerson  was  a  thinher,  and  he  has  told  ns  to 
look  out  when  that  rare  personage  appears.  Tnith  was 
the  sole  object  of  his  search;  his  maxim  was  that  every 
man  must  think  his  own  thoughts,  and  avow  them 
calmly  and  fearlessly. 

4.  His  style,  at  first  involved  and  obscure,  became 
of  late  years  clear,  vigorous,  and  packed  full  of  meaning. 
He  had  the  poet's  imagination  and  love  of  the  beautiful, 
and  graces  of  style  that  are  not  surpassed  by  any  other 
Enghsh  essayist.  He  had  also  a  clear  common  sense  and 
native  shrewdness  that  entitle  him  to  the  name  of  the 
^^  Yankee  Plato." 

5.  There  were  in  Emerson's  face  and  manner  a 
mingled  sweetness,  grace,  gravity,  and  simplicity  which 
cannot  be  portrayed.  He  was  loved  and  revered  by 
all  who  knew  him. 

6.  A.  Bronson  Alcott  thus  speaks  of  Emerson:  '^Poet 
and  moralist,  Emerson  has  beauty  and  truth  for  all 
men's  edification  and  delight.  His  works  are  studies. 
And  any  youth  of  free  senses  and  fresh  affections  shall 
be  spared  years  of  tedious  toil, — in  which  wisdom  and 
fair  learning  are,  for  the  most  part,  held  at  arm's  length, 
planet's  width,  from  his  grasp, — by  graduating  from  this 
college. . 

7.  ^^  His  books  are  surcharged  with  vigorous  thoughts, 
a  sprightly  wit.  They  abound  in  strong  sense,  happy 
humor,  keen  criticisms,  subtile  insights,  noble  morals, 
clothed  in  a  chaste  and  manly  diction,  fresh  with  the 
breath  of  health  and  progress. 

8.  ^^We  characterize  and  class  him  with  the  moralists 
who  siu-prise  us  with  an  accidental  wisdom,  strokes  of 
wit,  felicities  of  phrase — as  Plutarch,  Seneca,  Epictetus, 
Marcus  Aurehus,  Saadi,  Montaigne,  Bacon,  Selden,  Sir 
Thomas  Browne,  Cowley,  Coleridge,  Goethe." 


FIFTH    READER.  311 


46.     BEHAVIOR. 

This  extract  affords  an  example  of  unimpassiojicd,  thoughtfid  essay- 
reading. 

1.  The  power  of  manners  is  incessant, — an  element  as 
inconcealable  as  fire.  No  man  can  resist  their  influence. 
There  are  certain  manners  which  are  learned  in  good 
society,  of  that  force,  that,  if  a  person  have  them,  he 
or  she  must  be  considered,  and  is  everywhere  welcome, 
though  without  beauty,  or  wealth,  or  genius. 

2.  Give  a  boy  address  and  accomplishments,  and  you 
give  him  the  mastery  of  palaces  and  fortunes  where  he 
goes.  He  has  not  the  trouble  of  earning  or  owning 
them;  they  solicit  him  to  enter  and  possess.  "We  send 
girls  of  a  timid,  retreating  disposition  to  the  boarding- 
school,  to  the  riding-school,  to  the  ball-room,  or  whereso- 
ever they  can  come  into  acquaintance  and  nearness  of 
leading  persons  of  their  own  sex;  where  they  may  learn 
address,  and  see  it  near  at  hand.  #         #         # 

3.  A  main  fact  in  the  history  of  manners  is  the 
wonderful  expressiveness  of  the  human  body.  If  it  were 
made  of  glass,  or  of  air,  and  the  thoughts  were  written 
on  steel  tablets  within,  it  could  not  publish  more  truly 
its  meaning  than  now.  Wise  men  read  very  sharply  aU. 
your  private  history  in  your  look  and  gait  and  behavior. 

4.  The  face  and  eyes  reveal  what  the  spirit  is  do- 
ing, how  old  it  is,  what  aims  it  has.  The  eyes  of  men 
converse  as  much  as  their  tongues,  with  the  advantage, 
that  the  ocular  dialect  needs  no  dictionary,  but  is  under- 
stood all  the  world  over.  When  the  eyes  say  one  thing, 
and  the  tongue  another,  a  practiced  man  relies  on  the 
language  of  the  first.  If  the  man  is  off  his  center,  the 
eyes  show  it.  You  can  read"  in  the  eyes  of  your  com- 
panion, whether  your  argument  hits  him,  though  his 
tongue  wiU  not  confess  it. 


312  FIFTH    READER. 

5.  There  is  a  look  by  which  a  man  shows  he  is  going 
to  say  a  good  thing,  and  a  look  when^he  has  said  it. 
Yain  and  forgotten  are  all  the  fine  offers  and  offices  of 
hospitality,  if  there  is  no  holiday  in  the  eye.  There  are 
eyes^  to  be  sure,  that  give  no  more  admission  into  the 
man  than  blueberries.  There  are  asking  eyes,  asserting 
eyes,  prowling  eyes ;  and  eyes  f uU  of  fate, — some  of  good 
and  some  of  sinister  omen. 

6.  I  have  seen  manners  that  make  a  similar  impres- 
sion with  personal  beauty;  that  give  the  like  exhilaration, 
and  refine  us  like  that;  and,  in  memorable  experiences, 
they  are  suddenly  better  than  beauty,  and  make  that 
superfluous  and  ugly.  But  they  must  be  marked  by 
fine  perception,  the  acquaintance  with  real  beauty.  They 
must  always  show  self-control:  you  shall  not  be  facile, 
apologetic,  or  leaky,  but  king  over  your  word;  and  every 
gesture  and  action  shall  indicate  power  at  rest.  Then 
they  must  be  inspired  by  the  good  heart. 

7.  There  is  no  beautifler  of  complexion,  or  form,  or 
behavior,  like  the  wish  to  scatter  joy  and  not  pain  around 
us.  Tis  good  to  give  a  stranger  a  meal,  or  a  night's 
lodging.  Tis  better  to  be  hospitable  to  his  good  mean- 
ing and  thought,  and  give  courage  to  a  companion.  We 
must  be  as  courteous  to  a  man  as  we  are  to  a  picture, 
which  we  are  willing  to  give  the  advantage  of  a  good 
light. 

8.  There  is  one  topic  peremptorily  forbidden  to  all 
weU-bred,  to  all  rational  mortals,  namely,  their  distem- 
pers. If  you  have  not  slept,  or  if  you  have  slept,  or  if 
you  have  a  headache,  or  sciatica,  or  leprosy,  or  thunder- 
stroke, I  beseech  you  to  hold  your  peace,  and  not  pol- 
lute the  morning,  to  which  all  the  housemates  bring 
serene  and  pleasant  thoughts,  by  corruption  and  groans. 
Come  out  of  the  azure.  Love  the  day.  Do  not  leave 
the  sky  out  of  your  landscape. 

From  Emerson's  Essays. 


FIFTH    READER. 


313 


VIIL     VOCAL   TRAINING. 

I.    Articulation. 

Distinct  articulation  is  essential  to  good  pronunciation. 
The  best  way  of  training  the  organs  of  articulation  is 
by  means  of  forcible  phonic  spelling,  first  in  concert, 
and,  afterwards,  individually.  In  the  following  exercises, 
first  pronounce  each  word  clearly  and  forcibly,  then  spell 
it  by  sound,  and  pronounce  it  again.  Teachers  not  famil- 
iar with  phonic  spelling  can  restrict  the  exercises  to 
forcible  pronunciation. 

I.      EXERCISES   IN   ARTICULATION. 


broom,  brute,  breathe,  bread,  brown, 
orb,  herb,  -curb,  verb,  disturb,  barb, 
dread,  dried,  drink,  drown,  drought, 
hard,  bard,  -card,  guard,  ward,  lord. 
■eard§,  herd§,  -eordg,  16rd§,  board§. 
bar§,  star§,  -ear?,  bear§,  -eareg,  stair§. 
art,  heart,  part,  dirt,  pert,  -curt, 
spring,  sprang,  spriing,  sprite,  spray, 
squint,  square,  squab,  squash,  squad, 
asks,  tasks,  basks,  casks,  hiisks,  tiisks. 
asked,  tasked,  basked,  hiisked,  risked, 
gasps,  clasps,  rasps,  hasps,  grasps, 
gasped,  clasped,  rasped,  hasped,  grasped, 
masts,  fasts,  casts,  nests,  vests,  wrists, 
thresh,  thrive,  thrill,  through,  throat, 
elm,  eLtn§,  helm,  helm§,  film,  Mm§. 
•eha§m,  -eha^mg,  pri§m,  pri§m§. 
where,  wheat,  when,  which,  what,  wheel, 
laden,  sadden,  gladden,  burden,  harden, 
hearken,  taken,  waken,  weaken,  liken, 
open,  happen,  weapon,  cheapen,  deepen, 
heaven,  seven,  eleven,  oven,  given. 


314 


FIFTH    READER,. 


II.    Orthoepy. 

I.     WORDS    OFTEN   MISPRONOUNCED 

[_By  giving  the  wrong  voicel  sound]. 

First)  require  the  class  to  pronounce  in  concert;  then  allow  each  pupil 
in  turn  to  pronounce  one  or  more  words. 


ap  pa  ra'tus 

fima'le 

ma'tron 

por' trait 

an'swer 

fiirsome 

man'gy 

pre 'f age 

as  pir'ant 

gaunt 

may'or 

pre 'late 

bade 

gen' 11  me 

mas'ter 

rath'er 

bath 

gla'mour 

mass'ive 

ra'tion  a] 

■ea'ret 

groat 

mar'ry 

rail'ler  y 

coffee 

get 

mSn'ad 

salve 

daunt 

glass 

mea§'ilre 

sauge 

doQ'ile 

her'o  me 

mi  ntite' 

sau'ger 

du'ty 

hand 'some 

met'ric 

sau'sage 

di  reef 

ho  ri'zon 

mo  rale' 

s-earge 

di  gest' 

hos'tile 

none 

s-earge'ly 

di  verge' 

hov'er 

nude 

sau'cy 

di  verse' 

hein'oiis 

na'ked 

stanch 

di  viilge' 

jaunt 

on'ly 

staff 

di  gest'ion 

jo-e'und 

o'ral 

siip'ple 

di  reef  ion 

jowl 

on'er  oils 

su'et 

en'gine 

ju'gu  lar 

past 

taunt 

en  gross' 

ju'ven  lie 

pas 'tor 

tour 

ep'o-eh 

ket'tle 

0  bes'i  ty 

ttibe 

ex  tol' 

launch 

pa'tron 

til'tor 

^re 

lei'§ure 

prai'rie 

tune 

fetid 

li'en 

pat'ent 

true 

for'ger 

li'la^ 

pat'ron  age 

t^ii'iy 

fore 'head 

leath'er 

plea§'ure 

vo'-ea  ble 

fair'y 

live 'long 

prod'u^t 

view  [vu] 

for  bade' 

laun'dry 

prod'u^e 

whole 

flaunt 

launch 

prog 'ess 

withe 

fast'er 

lath§ 

pi  a'nist 

yes 

fast 'en 

last 

pi  a' no 

ySt 

FIFTH    READER. 


315 


n. 

a're  a 
a  dult' 
a  dgpt' 
ad  dress' 
ad'verse 
ab  do 'men 
bSn'zine 
best'ial 
•ea  nine' 
■eon  tour' 
•eay  enne' 
•com 'bat  ant 
•eom'mu  nist 
•eom'pa  ra  ble 
€om'pro  mi§e 
•eom'plai  §anQe 
•eon'tu  me  ly 
■eon'strue 
•eSn'vex 
•eor'net 
€6n'ver  sant 
■eon  trib'tite 
•eon  do'len^e 
de  -ec'roiis 
def 'i  9it 


WORDS    OFTEN   MISPRONOUNCED 

\_Blj  acccnti>t<j  the  wrong  syllahW]. 


de  ri'slve 
dSs'ul  to  ry 
dl  plo'ma  ^y 
dSl'or  ous 
dem  o  ni'a  -eal 
ex' tan  t 
Sx'or  else 
ex 'qui  §ite 
fi  nesse' 
frag'ment  a  ry 
fron'tier 
gri  mage' 
har'ass 
hy'gi  ene 
hy  men  e'al 
i  de'a 
il  lus'trate 
im'pi  ous 
in  -eom'pa  ra  ble 
in  dis'pu  ta  ble 
in  ex'pH  -ea  ble 
ir  rep 'a  ra  ble 
in'ter  est  ing 
ir  rev'o  -ea  ble 
lam'ent  a  ble 


leg' is  la  tive 
leg 'is  la  ture 
ly  Qe'um 
It  thog'ra  pher 
mis'chiev  ous 
mis  eon'strue 
mu  §e'um 
6r'nate 
or'tho  e  py 
per'emp  to  ry 
pre  ^ed'enge 
preQ'e  dent  {n.) 
pre  Qed'ent  (,adj.) 
pre  tense' 
re  ^ess' 
re  trib'u  tive 
ro  mange' 
rou  tine' 
so  no'roiis 
sub  sid'euQe 
te  leg'  ra  pby 
ti  rade' 
va'ri  e  gate 
va'ri  o  loid 
ve'he  ment 


in.    Pronunciation. 

If  pupils  do  not  Jcnoic  Jiow  to  accent  these  words  correctly,  tell  them  to 
consult  the  dictionary. 


incomprehensibility 
disadvantageously 
monocotyledonous 
demoralization 


supererogation 
genealogical 
extraordinary 
unintelligible 


interlocutor 
idiosyncrasy 
despicable 
suicidal 


316 


FIFTH   READER. 


'"*ii,«a^^J^-fe/^' 


47.     ELEGY   WRITTEN   IN   A   COUNTRY 
CHURCH-YARD. 

1. 

The  curfew  |  tolls  tlie  knell  |  of  parting  day^ 
The  lowing  herd  |  winds  slowly  |  o'er  the  l^a, 

The  plowman  |  homeward  |  plods  his  weary  way, 
And  leaves  the  world  I  to  darkness  I  and  to  me. 


Now  fades  |  the  glimmering  landscape     on  the  sight; 

And  all  the  air  |  a  solemn  stillness  \  holds, 
Save  where  the  beetle  |  wheels  his  droning  flight, 

And  drowsy  tinklings  |  hill  the  distant  folds; 


FIFTH    READER.  317 

3. 

Save  I  that  from  yonder  |  ivy-mantled  t6wer, 
The  moping  owl  |  does  to  the  moon  |  complain  | 

Of  such  as,  wand'ring  near  her  secret  bower, 
Molest  her  ancient  solitary  reign. 

4. 

Beneath  those  rugged  elms,  that  yew-tree's  shade, 
Where  heaves  the  turf  |  in  many  a  moldering  heap, 

Each  I  in  his  narrow  cell  |  forever  laid, 

The  rude  forefathers  |  of  the  hamlet  |  sleep. 

5. 
The  breezy  c41l  |  of  incense-breathing  mom, 

The  swallow  |  twittering  |  from  the  straw-built   shed. 
The  cock's  shrill  clarion,  or  the  echoing  horn. 

No  more  |  shaU  rouse  them  |  from  their  lowly  bed. 

6. 
For  them  |  no  more  the  blazing  hearth  |  shall  bum, 

Or  busy  housewife  |  ply  her  evening  care; 
No  children  |  run  |  to  lisp  their  sire's  return. 

Or  chmb  his  knees  |  the  envied  kiss  |  to  share. 

7. 
Oft  did  the  harvest  |  to  their  sickle  |  yield. 

Their  furrow  |  oft  |  the  stubborn  glebe  |  has  broke; 
How  jocund  |  did  they  drive  their  team  a-field ! 

How  bowed  |  the  woods  |  beneath  their  sturdy  stroke ! 

8. 
Let  not  Ambition  |  mock  their  useful  t6il, 

Their  homely  joys,  and  destiny  |  obscure; 
Nor  Grandeur  |  hear  |  with  a  disdainful  smile  | 

The  short  |  and  simple  annals  |  of  the  poor. 


318  FIFTH    READER. 


The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power, 
And  all  that  beauty,  aU  that  wealth  |  e'er  gave, 

Awaits  I  alike  |  the  inevitable  hour. 

The  paths  of  glory  |  lead  |  but  to  the  grave. 

10. 

Nor  you,  ye  proud,  impute  to  these  the  fault, 
If  Memory  |  o'er  their  tomb  |  no  trophies  raise. 

Where,  through  the  long-drawn  aisle  |  and  fretted  vault, 
The  pealing  anthem  |  swells  the  note  |  of  praise. 

11. 

Can  storied  lirn  or  animated  bust 

Back  to  its  mansion  |  call  the  fleeting  breath? 
Can  Honor's  voice  |  provoke  the  silent  dust. 

Or  Flattery  soothe  |  the  dull,  cold  ear  |  of  Death  ? 

12. 
Perhaps  in  this  neglected  spot  |  is  laid  | 

Some  heart  |  once  pregnant  |  with  celestial  fire; 
Hands  |  that  the  rod  of  empire  \  might  have  swayed. 

Or  waked  to  ecstasy  |  the  living  lyre: 

13. 

But  Knowledge  |  to  their  eyes  |  her  ample  page, 
Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,  did  ne'er  unroll; 

Chill  Penury  |  repressed  their  noble  rage. 
And  froze  the  genial  current  |  of  the  souL 

14. 

Full  many  a  gem  |  of  purest  ray  serene  | 
The  dark  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  \  bear; 

Full  many  a  flower  |  is  bom  to  blush  unseen. 
And  waste  |  its  sweetness  |  on  the  desert  air. 


FIFTH    READER.  319 

15. 

Some  village  Rclmpden  that,  with  dauntless  breast,   ' 
The  little  tyrant  |  of  his  fields  |  withstood; 

Some  mute  inglorious  Milton  |  here  may  rest, 
Some  Cromwelly  guiltless  of  his  country's  blood. 

16. 
The  applause  |  of  listening  senates  |  to  command, 

The  threats  |  of  pain  and  ruin  |  to  despise, 
To  scatter  plenty  |  o'er  a  smiling  land. 

And  read  their  history  |  in  a  nation's  eyes, 

17. 
Their  lot  |  forbade;   nor  circumscribed  |  alone  | 

Their  growing  virtues j  but  their  crimes  \  confined; — 
Forbade  to  wade  |  through  slaughter  |  to  a  throne, 

And  shut  the  gates  (  of  mercy  (  on  mankind, 

18. 
The  straggling  pangs  |  of  conscious  truth  |  to  hide, 

To  quench  the  blushes  of  ingenuous  shame, 
Or  heap  the  shrine  of  Luxury  and  Pride  | 

With  incense  |  kindled  at  the  Miise's  flame. 

19. 

Far  from  the  madding  crowd's  |  ignoble  strife, 
Their  sober  wishes  |  never  learned  to  str^yj 

Along  the  cool,  sequestered  vale  |  of  life  | 
They  kept  the  noiseless  tenor  |  of  their  wky. 

20. 
Yet  even  these  hones^  \  from  insult  |  to  protect, 

Some  frail  memorial  |  still  erected  nigh. 
With  uncouth  rhymes  |  and  shapeless  sculpture  |  decked. 

Implores  the  passing  tribute  |  of  a  sigh. 


320  FIFTH    READER. 

21. 

Their  name,  their  years,  spelt  by  the  unlettered  Miise, 
The  place  of  fame  |  and  elegy  |  supply  j 

And  many  a  holy  text  |  around  she  strews, 
That  teach  the  rustic  moralist  |  to  die. 

22. 
For  who,  to  dumb  forgetfulness  |  a  prey, 

This  pleasing,  anxious  being  |  e'er  resigned, 
Left  the  warm  precincts  |  of  the  cheerful  day. 

Nor  cast  |  one  longing,  lingering  look  |  behind? 

23. 

*0n  some  fond  breast  |  the  parting  soul  |  relies, 
Some  pious  drops  |  the  closing  eye  |  requires; 

E'en  from  the  tomb  \  the  voice  of  Nature  |  cries, 
E'en  in  our  ashes  \  Hve  |  their  wonted  fires. 

24. 

For  thee,  who,  mindful  of  the  unhonored  dead, 
Dost  I  in  these  lines  |  their  artless  tale  |  relate. 

If  chance,  by  lonely  contemplation  led. 

Some  kindred  spirit  |  shall  inquire  thy  fate, 

25. 

Haply  I  some  hoary-headed  swain  |  may  s4y, 
"Oft  have  we  seen  him,  at  the  peep  of  dawn, 

Brushing  with  hasty  steps  |  the  dews  away, 
To  meet  the  sun  |  upon  the  upland  lawn. 

26. 

"  There,  at  the  foot  |  of  yonder  nodding  beech, 
That  wreathes  its  old,  fantastic  roots  so  high. 

His  listless  length  |  at  noontide  |  would  he  stretch, 
And  pore  upon  the  brook  |  that  babbles  by. 


FIFTH    READER.  321 

27. 

"  Hard  by  yon  w6od,  now  smiling  |  as  in  sc6m, 
Muttering  his  wayward  fancies,  he  would  rovej 

Now  drooping,  woeful-wan,  like  one  forlorn, 
Or  crazed  with  care,  or  crossed  in  hopeless  16ve. 

28. 
"  One  mom  |  I  missed  him  |  on  the  'customed  hill. 

Along  the  heath,  and  near  his  favorite  treej 
Anotlier  \  came;  nor  yet  beside  the  rill. 

Nor  up  the  lawn,  nor  at  the  wood  |  was  hej 

29. 
"  The  next,  mth  dirges  due,  in  sad  array, 
Slow  I  through    the    church- way    path  |  we    saw    him 
borne. 
Approach  and  read  |  (for  thou  canst  read)  |  the  lay  | 
Graved  on  the  stone  |  beneath  yon  aged  thorn." 

THE    EPITAPH. 

Here  rests  his  head  |  upon  the  lap  of  6arth 
A  youth  I  to  Fortune  |  and  to  Fame  unknown; 

Fair  Science  |  frowned  not  |  on  his  humble  birth, 
And  Melancholy  |  marked  him  |  for  her  own. 

31. 
Large  |  was  his  bounty,  and  his  soul  |  sincere, 

Heaven  |  did  a  recompense  |  as  largely  sfendj 
He  gave  to  Misery  all  he  had,  a  tear; 

He  gained  from  Heaven  ('twas  aU  he  wished)  a  friend. 

32. 

No  farther  seek  |  his  mirits  \  to  disclose. 

Or  draw  his  frailties  \  from  their  dread  abode, 

(There  |  they  alike  |  in  trembling  hope  |  repose,) 
The  bosom  |  of  his  Father  |  and  his  God. 

,  ^.  Thomas  Gray. 


322  FIFTH    READER. 

Dictionary  Lesson.  Find  the  meaning  of  curfew,  lea,  glebe, 
clarion,  jocund,  trophies,  circumscribed,  ingenuous,  ignoble, 
bust,  sequestered,  tenor,  elegy,  precincts,  and  use  each  word  in 
a  sentence  of  your  own. 

I.      EXERCISES. 

1.  Take  the  third  line  in  the  first  stanza  and  make  all  the  trans- 
positions you  can. 

2.  Arrange  the  fourth  stanza  in  the  order  of  prose. 

3.  Stanzas  16  and  17.  "  Their  lot  forbade  [them]  to  command 
the  applause  of  listening  senates,"  etc. 

4.  Stanza  19.     Far  is  an  adjective  modifying  they  understood. 

5.  Stanzas  24  and  25.  ''Haply,  some  hoary-headed  swain  may 
say  for  thee  who  dost  relate,"  etc. 

6.  Stanza  30.     Put  the  first  two  lines  in  prose  order. 

II.      READING- ANALYSIS. 

1.  Ehetorical  Pauses.  Stanza  1.  Pause  after  ^^ curfew."  (See 
Part  I.,  Bule  1,  p.  85) :  After  hnell,  before  the  adjective  phrase,  of 
parting  (lay  (Rule  III):  After  lierd  (Rule  I):  After  slowly,  be- 
fore the  adverbial  phrase,  o^er  the  lea;  before  and  after  homeward 
(Rule  II) :  After  tvorld,  before  the  phrase,  to  darkness,  after  dark- 
ness, before  the  conjunction  and. 

In  a  similar  manner  require  pupils  to  give  the  reasons  for  rhetorical 
pauses  in  the  five  succeeding  stanzas. 

2.  Inflection.  Stanza  1.  Falling  inflection  on  day,  and  on  lea 
(Rule  v.,  p.  61,  Part  I,):  rising  inflection  on  loay,  preparatory  to 
the  cadence  in  the  last  line. 

Questions.  1.  Why  the  rising  inflection  at  the  end  of  the  16th 
stanza  ?  2.  Why  the  falling  inflection  at  the  end  of  the  22d 
stanza  ?    3.    Why  the  rising  inflection  at  the  end  of  the  24th  stanza  ? 

3.  Stress.    The  prevailing  stress  of  this  poem  is  the  median. 

4.  Movement.  The  movement  is,  in  general,  slow, — in  keeping 
with  the  grave  and  reflective  character  of  the  thought. 

III.     class  reading. 

1.  After  the  preceding  analysis,  read  the  poem,  line  by  line,  re- 
quiring the  class  to  repeat  in  concert  after  you. 

2.  Require  each  pupil  to  go  upon  the  platform  and  read  one 
stanza,  subject  to  criticism  by  the  teacher.  Insist  upon  it  that  pu- 
pils, when  reading  on  the  platform,  shall  raise  their  eyes  from  the 
book  and  look  at  the  class  while  repeating  tho  last  half  of  each  line. 

3.  Require  the  pupils  to  memorize  tho  poem,  and  require  each 
pupil  to  recite  one  stanza  upon  the  platform. 


FIFTH    READER.  323 


48.    THE   ASTRONOMER'S   VISION. 

Question  the  class  about  the  pitch,  force,  stress,  and  movement,  ivhich 
should  prevail  in  the  reading  of  this  piece. 

1.  Grod  called  up  from  dreams  a  man  into  the  vesti- 
bule of  heaven,  sajdng,  "Come  thou  hither  and  see  the 
glory  of  my  house."  And  to  the  servants  that  stood 
ai'ound  his  throne  he  said,  "Take  him,  and  undress 
him  from  his  robes  of  flesh;  cleanse  his  vision,  and 
put  a  new  breath  into  his  nostrils:  only  touch  not  with 
any  change  his  human  heart — the  heart  that  weeps  and 
trembles." 

2.  It  was  done;  and,  with  a  mighty  angel  for  his 
guide,  the  man  stood  ready  for  his  infinite  voyage;  and 
from  the  terraces  of  heaven,  without  sound  or  farewell, 
at  once  they  wheeled  away  into  endless  space.  Some- 
times, with  the  solemn  flight  of  angel  wing,  they  fled 
through  infinite  realms  of  darkness,  through  wildernesses 
of  death,  that  divided  the  worlds  of  life;  sometimes  they 
swept  over  frontiers,  that  were  quickening  under  prophetic 
motions  from  God. 

3.  Then,  from  a  distance  that  is  counted  only  in 
heaven,  light  dawned  for  a  time  through  a  sleepy  film; 
by  unutterable  pace,  the  light  swept  to  them,  tJieij,  by 
unutterable  pace,  to  the  light.  In  a  moment  the  rushing 
of  planets  was  upon  them:  in  a  moment  the  blazing  of 
suns  was  around  them. 

4.  Then  came  eternities  of  twilight,  that  revealed, 
but  were  not  revealed.  On  the  right  hand  and  on  the 
left  towered  mighty  constellations,  that  by  self -repeti- 
tions and  answers  from  afar,  that  by  counter-positions, 
built  up  triumphal  gates,  whose  architraves,  whose  arch- 
ways— horizontal,  upright — rested,  rose  at  altitude  by 
spans   that   seemed    ghostly  from    infinitude.     Without 


324  FIFTH    READER. 

measure  were  the   architraves,  past   number   were   the 
archways,  beyond  memory  the  gates. 

5.  Within  were  stairs  that  scaled  the  eternities  below; 
above  was  below — below  was  above,  to  the  man  stripped 
of  gravitating  body:  depth  was  swallowed  up  in  height 
insurmountable,  height  was  swallowed  up  in  depth  un- 
fathomable. Suddenly,  as  thus  they  rode  from  infinite 
to  infinite,  suddenly,  as  thus  they  tilted  over  abysmal 
worlds,  a  mighty  cry  arose — that  systems  more  mys- 
terious, that  worlds,  more  billowy, — other  heights  and 
other  depths, — were  coming,  were  nearing,  were  at  hand. 

6.  Then  the  man  sighed  and  stopped,  shuddered  and 
wept.  His  overladen  heart  uttered  itself  in  tears,  and 
he  said,  "Angel,  I  will  go  no  farther.  For  the  spirit 
of  man  acheth  with  this  infinity.  Insufferable  is  the 
glory  of  God.  Let  me  lie  down  in  the  grave  and  hide 
me  from  the  persecution  of  the  infinite;  for  end,  I  see, 
there  is  none." 

7.  And  from  all  the  listening  stars  that  shone  around, 
issued  a  choral  voice — "The  man  speaks  truly:  end 
there  is  none,  that  ever  yet  we  heard  of."  "End  is 
there  nonef  the  angel  solemnly  demanded;  "Is  there 
indeed  no  end? — and  is  this  the  sorrow  that  kiUs  youf^ 
But  no  voice  answered,  that  he  might  answer  himself. 
Then  the  angel  threw  up  his  glorious  hands  to  the 
heaven  of  heavens,  saying,  "End  is  there  none  to  the 
universe  of  God.     Lo !   also  there  is  no  beginning." 

Paraphrtused  from  the  German  by  Professor  0.  M.  Mitchell. 

Using  Words.  Write  each  of  the  following  words  in  a  sentence 
of  your  own :  planets,  architraves,  altitude,  archways, 

9 


WRITTEN    SPEI.I.ING.-SYNONYMS. 

diurnal 

collect              purchase 

garments 

annual 

commence        construct 

senior 

paternal 

fraternal          decapitate 

junior 

FIFTH    READER.  325 


49.     IN   FAVOR   OF   INDEPENDENCE. 

[This  extract  is  taken  from  Webster's  Eulogy  on  John  Adams.  No  report  was  made 
of  Adams's  speech  in  favor  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  in  the  Continental 
Congress,  but  Webster  in  his  oration,  supposes  him  to  have  made  this  speech.] 

1.  Sink  or  swim,  live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  I  give 
my  hand  and  my  heart  to  this  vote.  It  is  true,  indeed, 
that,  in  the  beginning,  we  aimed  not  at  independence. 
But  there's  a  divinity  which  shapes  our  ends.  The  in- 
justice of  England  has  driven  us  to  arms;  and,  blinded 
to  her  own  interest,  she  has,  for  our  good,  obstinately 
persisted,  till  independence  is  now  within  our  grasp. 
We  have  but  to  reach  forth  to  it,  and  it  is  ours.  Why, 
then,  should  we  defer  the  declaration? 

2.  Is  any  man  so  weak  as  now  to  hope  for  a  recon- 
ciliation mth  England,  which  shall  leave  either  safety 
to  the  country  and  its  liberties,  or  safety  to  his  own 
life  and  his  own  honor?  Are  not  you,  sir,  who  sit  in 
that  chair,  is  not  he,  our  venerable  colleague,  near  you, 
are  you  not  both  already  the  proscribed  and  predestined 
objects  of  punishment  and  of  vengeance?  Cut  off  from 
aU  hope  of  royal  clemency,  what  are  you,  what  can  you 
be,  while  the  power  of  England  remains,  but  outlaws? 

3.  If  we  postpone  independence,  do  we  mean  to  caiTy 
on  or  to  give  up  the  war?  Do  we  mean  to  submit  to 
the  measures  of  Parliament, — Boston  Port  Bill  and  aU? 
Do  we  mean  to  submit,  and  consent  that  we  shall  be 
ground  to  powder,  and  our  country  and  its  rights  trodden 
down  in  the  dust? 

4.  I  know  we  do  not  mean  to  submit.  We  never 
shall  submit.  Do  we  intend  to  violate  that  most  solemn 
obligation  ever  entered  into  by  men,  that  plighting,  be- 
fore God,  of  our  sacred  honor  to  Washington,  when, 
putting  him  forth  to  incur  the  dangers  of  war,  as  weU 
as  the  political  hazards  of  the  times,  we  promised  to 


326  FIFTH    READER. 

adhere  to  liim,  in  every  extremity,  with  our  fortunes 
and  our  lives?  I  know  that  there  is  not  a  man  here, 
who  would  not  rather  see  a  general  conflagration  sweep 
over  the  land,  or  an  earthquake  sink  it,  than  one  jot 
or  tittle  of  that  plighted  faith  fall  to  the  ground.  For 
myself,  having  twelve  months  ago,  in  this  place,  moved 
you,  that  George  Washington  be  appointed  commander 
of  the  forces  raised,  or  to  be  raised,  for  the  defense  of 
American  liberty,  may  my  right  hand  forget  her  cun- 
ning, and  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth, 
if  I  hesitate  or  waver  in  the  support  I  give  him. 

5.  The  war,  then,  must  go  on.  We  must  fight  it 
through.  And  if  the  war  must  go  on,  why  put  off 
longer  the  Declaration  of  Independence?  That  measure 
will  strengthen  us.  It  will  give  us  character  abroad. 
The  nations  will  then  treat  with  us,  which  they  never 
can  do  while  we  acknowledge  ourselves  subjects  in  arms 
against  our  sovereign.  Nay,  I  maintain  that  England 
herself  wiU  sooner  treat  for  peace  with  us  on  the  foot- 
ing of  independence,  than  consent,  by  repealing  her 
acts,  to  acknowledge  that  her  whole  conduct  toward  us 
has  been  a  course  of  injustice  and  oppression. 

6.  Her  pride  will  be  less  wounded  by  submitting  to 
that  course  of  things  which  now  predestinates  our  in- 
dependence, than  by  yielding  the  points  in  controversy 
to  her  rebellious  subjects.  The  former,  she  would  regard 
as  the  result  of  fortune  j  the  latter,  she  would  feel  as 
her  own  deep  disgrace.  Why  then,  sii',  do  we  not,  as 
soon  as  possible,  change  this  from  a  civil  to  a  national 
war?  And  since  we  must  fight  it  through,  why  not 
put  ourselves  in  a  state  to  enjoy  all  the  benefits  of  vic- 
tory, if  we  gain  the  victory? 

7.  If  we  fail,  it  can  be  no  worse  for  us.  But  we 
shall  not  fail.  The  cause  wiU  raise  up  armies;  the 
cause  will  create  navies.  The  people — the  people,  if  we 
are  true  to  them,  will  carry  us,  and  will  carry  them- 


FIFTH    READER.  327 

selves,  gloriously  through  this  struggle.  I  care  not  how 
fickle  other  people  have  been  found.  I  know  the  people 
of  these  colonies;  and  I  know  that  resistance  to  British 
aggression  is  deep  and  settled  in  their  hearts,  and  can- 
not be  eradicated.  Every  colony,  indeed,  has  expressed 
its  willingness  to  follow,  if  we  but  take  the  lead. 

8.  Sir,  the  Declaration  will  inspire  the  people  with 
increased  courage.  Instead  of  a  long  and  bloody  war 
for  the  restoration  of  privileges,  for  redress  of  griev- 
ances, for  chartered  immunities  held  under  a  British 
king,  set  before  them  the  glorious  object  of  entire  in- 
dependence, and  it  will  breathe  into  them  anew  the 
breath  of  life. 

9.  Read  this  declaration  at  the  head  of  the  army; 
every  sword  will  be  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  and  the 
solemn  vow  uttered,  to  maintain  it,  or  to  perish  on  the 
bed  of  honor.  Publish  it  from  the  pulpit;  religion  will 
approve  it,  and  the  love  of  religious  liberty  will  cling 
round  it,  resolved  to  stand  with  it  or  fall  with  it. 
Send  it  to  the  public  haUs;  proclaim  it  there;  let  them 
hear  it  who  heard  the  first  roar  of  the  enemy's  cannon; 
let  them  see  it  who  saw  their  brothers  and  their  sons 
fall  on  the  field  of  Bunker  HiU,  and  in  the  streets  of 
Lexington  and  Concord,  and  the  very  walls  will  cry 
out  in  its  support. 

10.  Sir,  I  know  the  uncertainty  of  human  affairs,  but 
I  see — I  see  clearly  through  this  day's  business.  You 
and  I,  indeed,  may  rue  it.  We  may  not  live  to  the 
time  when  this  declaration  shall  be  made  good.  We 
may  die;  die  colonists;  die  slaves;  die,  it  may  be,  igno- 
miniously,  and  on  the  scaffold.  Be  it  so.  If  it  be  the 
pleasure  of  Heaven  that  my  country  shall  require  the 
poor  offering  of  my  life,  the  victim  shall  be  ready  at  the 
appointed  hour  of  sacrifice,  come  when  that  hour  may. 
But  while  I  do  live,  let  me  have  a  country,  or  at  least 
the  hope  of  a  country,  and  that  a  free  country. 


328  FIFTH    READER. 

11.  But  whatever  may  be  our  fate,  be  assured — be 
assured  that  this  declaration  will  stand.  It  may  cost 
treasure  and  it  may  cost  blood;  but  it  will  stand,  and 
it  will  richly  compensate  for  both.  Through  the  thick 
gloom  of  the  present,  I  see  the  brightness  of  the  future 
as  the  sun  in  heaven.  We  shall  make  this  a  glorious, 
an  immortal  day.  When  we  are  in  our  graves,  our 
children  will  honor  it.  They  will  celebrate  it  with 
thanksgiving,  with  festivity,  with  bonfires,  and  illumi- 
nations. On  its  annual  return,  they  will  shed  tears, 
copious,  gushing  tears,  not  of  subjection  and  slavery, 
not  of  agony  and  distress,  but  of  exultation,  of  gratitude, 
and  of  joy. 

12.  Sir,  before  God,  I  believe  the  hour  is  come.  My 
judgment  approves  this  measure,  and  my  whole  heart 
is  in  it.  All  that  I  have,  and  all  that  I  am,  and  all 
that  I  hope  in  this  life,  I  am  now  ready  here  to  stake 
upon  it;  and  I  leave  off  as  I  begun,  that,  live  or  die, 
survive  or  perish,  I  am  for  the  declaration.  It  is  my 
living  sentiment,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  it  shaU 
be  my  dying  sentiment, — independence  notv,  and  inde- 
pendence FOREVER ! 

Daniel  Webster. 

Using  Words.  Write  each  of  the  following  words,  in  a  sentence 
of  your  own:  coUea^e,  stake,  copious^  proscribed,  predestined, 
compensate,  exultation,  rebellious,  uncertainty,  immunities,  rue, 
restoration,  resistance,  scabbard^  colonies. 

10 


WRITTEN  SPELLING.— WORDS   OFTEN   MISSPELLED. 

Studj/  this  lesson 

hy  copying  it 

on  your  slate,  at 

your 

desk.    Refer 

to  tlw  dictionary  for  definitions  oi 

'  pronunciation. 

perceive 

conceive 

retrieve 

exceed 

achieve 

relieve 

deceive 

impede 

receive 

secede 

precede 

receipt 

believe 

succeed 

proceed 

replete 

FIFTH    READER.  329 


50.     FITZ-JAMES   AND   RODERICK   DHU. 

[King  James,  of  Scotland,  disguised  aa  a  knight,  while  wandering  in  the  Highlands, 
encounters  the  Scottish  Chieftain,  Roderick  Dhu.  Neither  warrior,  however,  is  known 
to  the  other.    The  opening  extract  describes  the  meeting.] 

With  cautious  step,  and  ear  awake, 

He  climbs  the  crag,  and  threads  the  brake  j 

And  not  the  summer  solstice,  there. 

Tempered  the  midnight  mountain  air, 

But  every  breeze  that  swept  the  wold. 

Benumbed  his  drenched  Hmbs  with  cold. 

In  dread,  in  danger,  and  alone, 

Famished  and  chilled,  through  ways  unknown, 

Tangled  and  steep,  he  journeyed  on; 

TiU,  as  a  rock's  huge  point  he  turned, 

A  watch-fire  close  before  him  burned. 

Beside  its  embers  red  and  clear. 

Basked,  in  his  plaid,  a  mountaineer: 

And  up  he  sprung  with  sword  in  hand, — 

"  Thy  name  and  purpose  !     Saxon,  stand !'' 

"A  stranger." — "What  dost  thou  require?" 

"Eest  and  a  guide,  and  food  and  fire. 

My  life's  beset,  my  path  is  lost. 

The  gale  has  chilled  my  limbs  with  frost." 

"Art  thou  a  friend  to  Roderick?"    "No." 

"Thou  darest  not  caU  thyself  a  foe?" 

"  I  dare !  to  him  and  all  the  band 

He  brings  to  aid  his  murderous  hand." 

"Bold  words! — but,  though  the  beast  of  game 

The  privilege  of  chase  may  claim. 

Though  space  and  law  the  stag  we  lend, 

Ere  hound  we  sUp,  or  bow  we  bend. 

Who  ever  recked,  where,  how,  or  when. 

The  prowling  fox  was  trapped  or  slain? 

Thus  trcEicherous  scouts, — yet  sure  they  lie, 


330  FIFTH    READER. 

Who  say  thou  earnest  a  seeret  spy!" 

"They  do,  by  heaven! — come  Roderick  Dhu, 

And  of  his  clan  the  boldest  two, 

And  let  me  but  till  morning  rest, 

I  write  the  falsehood  on  their  crest." 

"If  by  the  blaze  I  mark  aright. 

Thou  bear'st  the  belt  and  spur  of  Knight." 

"Then,  by  these  tokens  may'st  thou  know 

Each  proud  oppressor's  mortal  foe." 

"Enough,  enough;  sit  down  and  share 

A  soldier's  couch,  a  soldier's  fare." 

[The  next  morning,  Roderick  undertakes  to  guide  his  guest  as  far  as  Coilantogle 
ford.  On  the  way  James  expresses  an  ardent  wish  to  meet  this  unknown  chief  in  per- 
sonal combat.  His  guide  blows  a  whistle,  when  five  hundred  men  start  out  from  the 
broom  and  bracken  which  cover  the  hill-sides,  and  the  host  of  the  night  before  announces 
to  his  guest  that  he,  himself,  is  Koderick  Dhu.  The  following  extract  opens  with  Fitz- 
James's  defiance.] 

Fitz-James  was  brave: — Though  to  his  heart 

The  life-blood  thrilled  with  sudden  start, 

He  manned  himself  with  dauntless  air. 

Returned  the  Chief  his  haughty  stare  j 

His  back  against  a  rock  he  bore, 

And  firmly  placed  his  foot  before: — 

"Come  one,  come  all!   this  rock  shall  fly 

From  its  firm  base  as  soon  as  I." 

Sir  Roderick  marked — -and  in  his  eyes 

Respect  was  mingled  with  surprise. 

And  the  stern  joy  which  warriors  feel 

In  foemen  worthy  of  their  steel. 

Short  space  he  stood — then  waved  his  hand: 

Down  sank  the  disappearing  band; 

Each  warrior  vanished  where  he  stood, 

In  broom  or  bracken,  heath  or  wood; 

Sunk  brand  and  spear  and  bended  bow, 

In  osiers  pale  and  copses  low; 

It  seemed  as  if  their  mother  Earth 


FIFTH    READER.  331 

Had  swallowed  up  her  warlike  birth. 

The  wind's  last  breath  had  tossed  in  air 

Pennon,  and  plaid,  and  plumage  fair, — 

The  next  but  swept  a  lone  hill-side, 

"Where  heath  and  fern  were  waving  wide: 

The  sun's  last  glance  was  glinted  back. 

From  spear  and  glaive,  from  targe  and  jack, — 

The  next,  all  unreflected,  shone 

On  bracken  green  and  cold  gray  stone. 

Fitz-James  looked  round, — ^yet  scarce  believed 

The  witness  that  his  sight  received; 

Such  apparition  well  might  seem 

Delusion  of  a  dreadful  dream. 

Sir  Roderick  in  suspense  he  eyed, 

And  to  his  look  the  Chief  replied: 

"Fear  naught — nay,  that  I  need  not  say — 

But,  doubt  not  aught  from  mine  array. 

Thou  art  my  guest; — I  pledged  my  word 

As  far  as  Coilantogle  ford: 

Nor  would  I  call  a  clansman's  brand 

For  aid  against  one  valiant  hand, 

Though  on  our  strife  lay  every  vale 

Rent  by  the  Saxon  from  the  Gael. 

So  move  we  on; — I  only  meant 

To  show  the  reed  on  which  you  leant, 

Deeming  this  path  you  might  pursue 

Without  a  pass  from  Roderick  Dhu." 

The  Chief  in  silence  strode  before, 

And  reached  that  torrent's  sounding  shore, 

Which,  daughter  of  three  mighty  lakes. 

From  Yennachar  in  silver  breaks. 

And  here  his  course  the  Chieftain  stayed, 

Threw  down  his  target  and  his  plaid, 

And  to  the  Lowland  warrior  said: — 

"Bold  Saxon !   to  his  promise  just, 

Vich- Alpine  has  discharged  his  trust. 


332  FIFTH    READER. 

This  mnrderOTis  Chief,  this  ruthless  man, 

This  head  of  a  rebellious  clan, 

Hath  led  thee  safe,  through  watch  and  ward, 

Far  past  Clan- Alpine's  outmost  guard. 

Now,  man  to  man,  and  steel  to  steel, 

A  Chieftain's  vengeance  thou  shalt  feel. 

See  here,  all  vantageless  I  stand. 

Armed,  like  thyself,  with  single  brand: 

For  this  is  Coilantogle  ford. 

And  thou  must  keep  thee  with  thy  sword." 

The  Saxon  paused:     "I  ne'er  delayed. 

When  foeman  bade  me  draw  my  blade; 

Nay  more,  brave  Chief,  I  vowed  thy  death; 

Yet  sure  thy  fair  and  generous  faith, 

And  my  deep  debt  for  life  preserved, 

A  better  meed  have  well  deserved: 

Can  naught  but  blood  our  feud  atone? 

Are  there  no  means?"     "No,  stranger,  none! 

And  hear,^to  fire  thy  flagging  zeal, — 

The  Saxon  cause  rests  on  thy  steel; 

For  thus  spoke  Fate,  by  prophet  bred 

Between  the  living  and  the  dead: 

'Who  spills  the  foremost  foeman's  life, 

His  party  conquers  in  the  strife.'" — 

''Then,  by  my  word,"  the  Saxon  said, 

"The  riddle  is  already  read. 

Seek  yonder  brake  beneath  the  cliff, — 

There  lies  Red  Murdoch,  stark  and  stiff. 

Thus  Fate  has  solved  her  prophecy*; 

Then  yield  to  Fate,  and  not  to  me." 

Dark  lightning  flashed  from  Roderick's  eye: 

"Soars  thy  presumption,  then,  so  high. 

Because  a  wretched  kern  ye  slew, 

Homage  to  name  to  Roderick  Dhu? 

He  yields  not,  he,  to  man  nor  Fate ! 

Thou  add'st  but  fuel  to  my  hate: — 


FIFTH    READER.  333 


My  clansman's  blood  demands  revenge. 
Not  yet  prepared? — By  heaven,  I  change 
My  thought,  and  hold  thy  valor  light 
As  that  of  some  vain  carpet  knight, 
Who  ill  deserved  my  courteous  care. 
And  whose  best  boast  is  but  to  wear 
A  braid  of  his. fair  lady's  hair." — 
"I  thank  thee,  Roderick,  for  the  word! 
It  nerves  my  heart,  it  steels  my  sword; 
For  I  have  sworn  this  braid  to  stain 
In  the  best  blood  that  warms  thy  vein. 
Now,  truce,  farewell!   and  ruth  begone! — 
Yet  think  not  that  by  thee  alone. 
Proud  Chief!   can  courtesy  be  shown; 
Though  not  from  copse,  or  heath,  or  cairn, 
Start  at  my  whistle  clansmen  stem, 
Of  this  smaU  horn  one  feeble  blast 
Would  fearful  odds  against  thee  cast. 
But  fear  not,  doubt  not,  which  thou  wilt — 
We  try  this  quarrel  hilt  to  hilt." 
Then  each  at  once  his  falchion  drew, 
Each  on  the  ground  his  scabbard  threw, 
Each  looked  to  sun,  and  stream,  and  plain, 
As  what  they  ne'er  might  see  again; 
Then  foot,  and  point,  and  eye  opposed, 
In  dubious  strife  they  darkly  closed. 
Ill  fared  it  then  with  Roderick  Dhu, 
That  on  the  field  his  targe  he  threw. 
Whose  brazen  studs  and  tough  bull-hide 
Had  death  so  often  dashed  aside; 
For,  trained  abroad  his  arms  to  wield, 
Fitz-James's  blade  was  sword  and  shield. 
He  practiced  every  pass  and  ward. 
To  thrust,  to  strike,  to  feint,  to  guard; 
Wliile,  less  expert,  though  stronger  far, 
The  Gael  maintained  unequal  war. 


334  FIFTH    READER. 

Three  times  in  closing  strife  they  stood, 

And  thrice  the  Sa^on  blade  drank  blood  j 

No  stinted  draught,  no  scanty  tide, 

The  gushing  flood  the  tartans  dyed.      ' 

Fierce  Roderick  felt  the  fatal  drain, 

And  showered  his  blows  like  wintry  rainj 

And,  as  firm  rock,  or  castle-roof. 

Against  the  winter  shower  is  proof, 

The  foe,  invulnerable  still. 

Foiled  his  wild  rage  with  steady  skill; 

Till,  at  advantage  ta'en,  his  brand 

Forced  Roderick's  weapon  from  his  hand, 

And,  backward  borne  upon  the  lea. 

Brought  the  proud  Chieftain  to  his  knee. 

''Now  yield  thee,  or  by  Him  -who  made 

The  world,  thy  heart's  blood  dyes  my  blade!'' 

''Thy  threats,  thy  mercy,  I  defy! 

Let  recreant  yield,  who  fears  to  die." — 

Like  adder  darting  from  his  coil. 

Like  wolf  that  dashes  through  the  toil, 

Like  mountain-cat  that  guards  her  young, 

Full  at  Fitz- James's  throat  he  sprung; 

Received,  but  recked  not  of  a  wound. 

And  locked  his  arms  his  foeman  round. 

Now,  gallant  Saxon,  hold  thine  own ! 

No  maiden's  hand  is  round  thee  thrown! 

That  desperate  grasp  thy  frame  might  feel 

Through  bars  of  brass  and  triple  steel! 

They  tug,  they  strain ! — down,  down  they  go, 

The  Gael  above,  Fitz-James  below. 

The  Chieftain's  gripe  his  throat  compressed. 

His  knee  was  planted  on  his  breast; 

His  clotted  locks  he  backward  threw, 

Across  his  brow  his  hand  he  drew, 

From  blood  and  mist  to  clear  his  sight, 

Then  gleamed  aloft  his  dagger  bright! 


FIFTH    READER.  335 

But  hate  and  fury  ill  supplied 
The  stream  of  life's  exhausted  tide, 
And  all  too  late  the  advantage  came, 
To  turn  the  odds  of  deadly  game; 
For,  while  the  dagger  gleamed  on  high, 
Reeled  soul  and  sense,  reeled  brain  and  eye. 
Down  came  the  blow!   but  in  the  heath 
The  erring  blade  found  bloodless  sheath. 
The  struggling  foe  may  now  unclasp 
The  fainting  Chiefs  relaxing  grasp; — 
Unwounded  from   the  dreadful  close, 
But  breathless  all,  Fitz-James  arose. 

Scott. 


61.     THE   AMERICAN   FLAG. 

Marh  this  piece  for  inflection  and  emphasis,  and  then  require  pupils 
to  memorize  at  least  the  first  stanza. 

1.  When  Freedom,  from  her  mountain  height, 

Unfurled  her  standard  to  the  air, 
She  tore  the  azure  robe  of  night, 

And  set  the  stars  of  glory  there; 
She  mingled  with  its  gorgeous  dyes 
The  milky  baldric  of  the  skies. 
And  striped  its  pure,  celestial  white 
With  streakings  of  the  morning  light j 
Then  from  his  mansion  in  the  sun 
She  called  her  eagle-bearer  down, 
And  gave  into  his  mighty  hand 
The  symbol  of  her  chosen  land. 

2.  Flag  of  the  brave !   thy  folds  shall  fly, 
The  sign  of  hope  and  triumph  high! 
When  speaks  the  signal  trumpet  tone. 
And  the  long  line  comes  gleaming  on 


336  FII'TH    READER. 

(Ere  yet  the  life-blood,  warm  and  wet, 
Has  dimmed  the  glistening  bayonet), 
Each  soldier's  eye  shall  brightly  turn 
To  wh<5re  thy  sky-born  glories  burn, 
And  as  his  springing  steps  advance, 
Catch  war  and  vengeance  from  the  glance. 
And  when  the  cannon-mouthings  loud 
Heave  in  wild  wreaths  the  battle  shroud, 
And  gory  sabers  rise  and  fall. 
Like  shoots  of  flame  on  midnight's  pall, 
Then  shall  thy  meteor  glances  glow, 

And  cowering  foes  shall  sink  beneath 
Each  gallant  arm  that  strikes  below 

That  lovely  messenger  of  death. 

3.  Flag  of  the  seas !   on  ocean's  wave 
Thy  stars  shall  glitter  o'er  the  brave  j 
When  death,  careering  on  the  gale, 
Sweeps  darkly  round  the  bellied  sail, 
And  frighted  waves  rush  wildly  back 
Before  the  broadside's  reeling  rack, 
Each  dying  wanderer  of  the  sea 
Shall  look  at  once  to  heaven  and  thee. 
And  smile  to  see  thy  splendors  fly 

In  triumph  o'er  his  closing  eye. 

4.  Flag  of  the  free  heart's  hope  and  home, 

By  angel  hands  to  valor  given. 
Thy  stars  have  lit  the  welkin  dome. 

And  all  thy  hues  were  born  in  heaven. 
Forever  float  that  standard  sheet! 

Where  breathes  the  foe,  but  falls  before  us, 
With  Freedom's  soil  beneath  our  feet, 

And  Freedom's  banner  streaming  o'er  us ! 

Drakf, 

Dictionary  Lesson.    Define  the  following  words :  azure,  baldric, 
cowering,  careering,  welkin.    Write  each  in  a  sentence. 


FIFTH    READER.  337 


62.     THE   CONSTITUTION. 

Let  pupils  read  tliis  piece,  and,  under  your  direction^  mark  ii  for 
emphasis,  inflceiion,  and  pauses.  Then  assign  it  to  the  boys  of  the  ckiss 
to  be  learned  by  heart  for  declamation. 

1.  Never  did  there  devolve  on  any  generation  of  men 
higher  trusts  than  now  devolve  npon  ns,  for  the  pres- 
ervation of  this  Constitution,  and  the  harmony  and 
peace  of  aU  who  are  destined  to  live  under  it.  Let  us 
make  om*  generation  one  of  the  strongest  and  brightest 
hnks  in  that  golden  chain  which  is  destined,  I  fondly 
believe,  to  grapple  the  people  of  all  the  States  to  this 
Constitution  for  ages  to  come 

2.  We  have  a  great,  popular,  constitutional  govern- 
ment, guarded  by  law  and  by  judicature,  and  defended 
by  the  affections  of  the  people.  No  monarchical  tlirone 
presses  these  States  together.  They  live  and  stand  under 
a  government  popular  in  its  form,  representative  in  its 
character,  founded  upon  principles  of  equality,  and  so 
constructed,  we  hope,  as  to  last  forever. 

3.  In  aU  its  history  it  has  been  beneficent  j  it  has 
trodden  down  no  man's  liberty;  it  has  crushed  no  State. 
Its  daily  respiration  is  liberty  and  patriotism;  its  yet 
youthful  veins  are  fuU  of  entei*prise,  courage,  and  hon- 
orable love  of  glory  and  renown.  Large  before,  the 
country  has  now,  by  recent  events,  become  vastly  larger. 
This  republic  now  extends,  wi^h  a  vast  breadth,  across 
tlie  whole  continent.  The  two  great  seas  of  the  world 
Avash  the  one  and  the  other  shore.  We  realize  on  a 
mighty  scale  the  beautiful  description  of  the  ornamental 
border  of  the  bucklers  of  Achilles  — 

''Now  the  broad  shield  complete,  the  artist  crowned 
With  his  last  hand,  and  poiu'ed  the  ocean  round. 
In  lix-ing  silver  seemed  the  waves  to  roll, 
And  beat  the  buckler's  verge,  and  bound  the  whole." 

Damel  Webster. 
5-22 


338  FIFTH    READER. 


53.     SPARTACUS   TO   THE    G-LADIATORS. 

1.  Ye  call  me  chief;  and  ye  do  well  to  call  him  chief 
who,  for  twelve  long  years,  has  met  upon  the  arena 
every  shape  of  man  or  beast  the  broad  empire  of  Rome 
could  furnish,  and  who  never  yet  lowered  his  arm.  If 
there  be  one  among  you  who  can  say,  that  ever,  in  public 
light  or  private  brawl,  my  actions  did  belie  my  tongue, 
let  him  stand  forth  and  say  it.  If  there  be  three  in  all 
your  company  dare  face  me  on  the  bloody  sands,  let 
them  come  on.  And  yet  I  was  not  always  thus — a 
hired  butcher,  a  savage  chief  of  still  more  savage  men! 

2.  My  ancestors  came  from  old  Sparta,  and  settled 
among  the  vine-clad  rocks  and  citron-groves  of  CyraseUa. 
My  early  life  ran  quiet  as  the  brooks  by  which  I 
sported;  and  when,  at  noon,  I  gathered  the  sheep  be- 
neath the  shade,  and  played  upon  the  shepherd's  flute, 
there  was  a  friend,  the  son  of  a  neighbor,  to  join  me 
in  the  pastime.  We  led  our  flocks  to  the  same  pasture, 
and  partook  together  our  rustic  meal. 

3.  One  evening,  after  the  sheep  were  folded,  and  we 
were  all  seated  beneath  the  myrtle  which  shaded  our 
cottage,  my  grandsire,  an  old  man,  was  teUing  of  Mar- 
athon and  Leuctra;  and  how,  in  ancient  times,  a  little 
band  of  Spartans,  in  a  defile  of  the  mountains,  had 
withstood  a  whole  army.  I  did  not  then  know  what 
war  was;  but  my  cheeks  burned,  I  knew  not  why,  and 
I  clasped  the  knees  of  that  venerable  man,  until  my 
mother,  parting  the  hair  from  off  my  forehead,  kissed 
my  throbbing  temples  and  bade  me  go  to  rest,  and 
think  no  more  of  those  old  tales  and  savage  wars. 
That  very  night  the  Romans  landed  on  our  coast.  I 
saw  the  breast  that  had  nourished  me  trampled  by  the 
hoof  of  the  war-horse  J  the  bleeding  body  of  my  father 
flung  amid  the  blazing  rafters  of  our  dwelling! 


FIFTH    READER.  339 

4.  To-day  I  killed  a  man  in  the  arena;  and  when 
I  broke  his  helmet-clasps,  behold!  he  was  my  friend. 
He  knew  me,  smiled  faintly,  gasped,  and  died — the 
same  sweet  smile  upon  his  lips  that  I  had  marked  when, 
in  adventurous  boyhood,  we  scaled  the  lofty  cliff  to 
pluck  the  first  ripe  grapes,  and  bear  them  home  in 
childish  triimiph !  I  told  the  praetor  that  the  dead  man 
had  been  my  friend,  generous  and  brave;  and  I  begged 
that  I  might  bear  away  the  body  and  burn  it  on  a 
funeral  pile,  and  mourn  over  its  ashes.  Ay,  upon  my 
knees,  amid  the  dust  and  blood  of  the  arena,  I  begged 
that  poor  boon,  while  all  the  assembled  maids  and 
matrons,  and  the  holy  virgins  they  call  Vestals,  and 
the  rabble,  shouted  in  derision,  deeming  it  rare  sport, 
forsooth,  to  see  Rome's  fiercest  gladiator  turn  pale  and 
tremble  at  sight  of  that  piece  of  bleeding  clay!  And 
the  praetor  drew  back  as  if  I  were  pollution,  and  sternly 
said,  "Let  the  carrion  rot;  there  are  no  noble  men  but 
Romans  ! "  And  so,  fellow-gladiators,  must  you,  and  so 
must  I,  die  like  dogs. 

5.  O  Rome !  Rome !  thou  hast  been  a  tender  nurse 
to  me.  Ay,  thou  hast  given  to  that  poor,  gentle,  timid 
shepherd-lad,  who  never  knew  a  harsher  tone  than  a 
flute  note,  muscles  of  iron  and  a  heart  of  flint;  taught 
him  to  drive  the  sword  through  plaited  mail  and  links 
of  rugged  brass,  and  warm  it  in  the  marrow  of  his  foe; 
to  gaze  into  the  glaring  eye-balls  of  the  fierce  Numidian 
lion,  even  as  a  boy  upon  a  laughing  girl!  And  he 
shall  pay  thee  back,  until  the  yellow  Tiber  is  red  as 
frothing  wine,  and  in  its  deepest  ooze  life-blood  lies 
curdled ! 

6.  Ye  stand  here  now  Uke  giants,  as  ye  are !  The 
strength  of  brass  is  in  youi*  toughened  sinews;  but  to- 
morrow some  Roman  Adonis,  breathing  sweet  perfume 
from  his  curly  locks,  shall  with  his  lily  fingers  pat  your 
red  brawn,  and  bet  his  sesterces  upon  your  blood.    Hark ! 


340  FIFTH    READER. 

hear  ye  yon  lion  roaring  in  his  den!  'Tis  three  days 
since  he  tasted  flesh  5  but  to-morrow  he  shall  break  his 
fast  upon  yourSj  and  a  dainty  meal  for  him  ye  will  be ! 
7.  If  ye  are  beasts,  then  stand  here  like  fat  oxen, 
waiting  for  the  butcher's  knife !  If  ye  are  men — foUow 
me !  Strike  down  yon  guard,  gain  the  mountain  passes, 
and  there  do  bloody  work,  as  did  your  sires  at  old 
Thermopyla3 !  Is  Sparta  dead  ?  Is  the  old  Grecian  spirit 
frozen  in  your  veins,  that  you  do  crouch  and  cower 
like  a  belabored  hound  beneath  his  master's  lash?  O 
comrades !  warriors  !  Thracians !  if  we  must  fight,  let 
us  fight  for  ourselves !  If  we  must  slaughter,  let  us 
slaughter  our  oppressors !  If  we  must  die,  let  it  be 
under  the  clear  sky,  by  the  bright  waters, — in  noble, 
honorable  battle!  kellogg. 


64.     FOR  A'   THAT,   AND   A'   THAT. 

1.  Is  there  for  honest  poverty. 

That  hangs  his  head,  and  a'  that? 
The  coward-slave,  we  pass  him  byj 

We  dare  be  poor  for  sJ  that! 
For  al  that,  and  a'  that, 

Our  toils  obscure,  and  b!  that; 
The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp — 

The  man^s  the  gowd  for  al  that. 

2.  What  though  on  hamely  fare  we  dine, 

Wear  hodden-gray,  and  a'  that; 
Gie  fools  their  silks,  and  knaves  their  wine, 

A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that! 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that. 

Their  tinsel  show,  and  a'  that; 
The  honest  man,  though  e'er  sae  poor, 

Is  king  o'  men  for  a'  that. 


FIFTH    READER.  341 

3.  Ye  sec  yon  birkie,  ca'd  a  lord, 

Wha  struts,  and  stares,  and  a'  that; 
Though  hundreds  worship  at  his  word, 

He's  but  a  coof  for  a'  that: 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 

His  riband,  star,  and  a'  that; 
The  man  of  independent  mind. 

He  looks  and  laughs  at  a'  that. 

4.  A  prince  can  make  a  belted  knight, 

A  marquis,  duke,  and  oJ  that; 
But  an  honest  man's  aboon  his  might — 

Guid  faith,  he  maunna  fa'  that! 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that. 

Their  dignities,  and  a'  that; 
The  pith  o'  sense  and  pride  o'  worth 

Are  higher  ranks  than  a'  that. 

5.  Then  let  us  pray,  that  come  it  may, — 

As  come  it  will,  for  a'  that, — 
That  sense  and  worth,  o'er  a'  the  earth, 

May  bear  the  gree,  and  a'  that! 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that. 

It's  coming  yet,  for  a'  that; 
"When  man  to  man,  the  warld  o'er, 

Shall  brothers  be  for  a'  that ! 

Robert  Burns. 

Note. — This  fine  sentence,  by  Prof.  Wilson,  characterizes  the  genius 
of  the  preceding  piece.  ''  The  poor  man,"  he  says,  "as  he  speaks  of 
Robert  Burns,  always  holds  up  his  head  and  regards  you  with  an  elated 
look." 

DEFINITIONS. 


gowd,  gold. 

liamely,  homely. 

hodden-gray,  coarse  woolen  cloth. 

gie,  give. 

tirkie,  conceited  fellow. 

fa',  try. 


wha,  who. 

coo^  blockhead. 

aboon,  above. 

guid,  good. 

i-iaunna,  must  not. 

bear  the  gree,  be  decidedly  victor. 


342  FIFTH    READER. 

55.     TRIBUTE   TO   ROBERT   BURNS, 

[abridged.  ] 

1.  Wild  Jieather-'hells  and  Robert  Burns ! 

The  moorland  flower  and  peasant ! 
How,  at  tlieir  mention,  memory  turns 
Her  pages  61d  and  pleasant! 

2.  I  call  to  mind  tlie  summer' day ^ 

The  early  Jidrvest-vcLO^uig, 
The  sky  with  sun  and  cloud  at  play, 
And  flowers  with  breezes  blowing. 

3.  How  oft  that  day,  with  fond  delay, 

I  sought  the  mctple^s  shadow, 
And  sang  with  Burns  the  hours  away, 
Forgetful  of  the  meadow. 

4.  Not  his  the  song  whose  thunderous  chime 

Eternal  echoes  render — 
The  mournful  Tuscan^s  haunted  rhyme, 
And  Milton^ s  starry  splendor! 

5.  But  who  his  human  heart  has  laid 

To  nature's  bosom  nearer? 
Who  sweetened  toil  like  him,  or  paid 
To  love  a  tribute  dearer  f 

6.  Through  all  his  tuneful  art  how  strong 

The  human  feeling  gushes ! 
The  very  moonlight  of  his  song 
Is  warm  with  smiles  and  blushes! 

7.  Give  lettered  pomp  to  teeth  of  Time, 

So  "  Bonnie  Doon ''  but  tarry  I 
Blot  out  the  epic's  stately  rhyme, 
But  spare  his  "  Highland  Mary  !  '^ 

John  G.  "Whittier. 


FIFTH    READER. 


343 


56.     JAMES   RUSSELL   LOWELL. 


1.  James  Russell  Lowell  was  bom  in  Cambridge,  Mass., 
in  1819.  His  mother  was  a  woman  of  remarkable  mind, 
possessing  in  an  eminent  degree  the  power  of  acquiring 
languages.  He  graduated  at  Hai^ard  CoUege,  studied 
law,  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  but  never  practiced. 

2.  In  1855,  upon  the  resignation  of  the  poet  Long- 
fellow, he  was  aj)pointed  Professor  of  Modern  Languages 
at  Harvard.  In  1877,  he  was  sent  as  Minister  to  Spain, 
and  afterwards  represented  the  United  States  in  Great 
Britain. 

3.  He  has  published  several  volumes  of  poetr\^  and 
prose.  His  essays  upon  the  British  Poets  gained  him  a 
high  place  among  critics.    His  "Biglow  Papers"  display 


344  FIFTH    READER. 

rich  humor,  incisive  wit,  and  shrewd  common  sense, — 
and  there  are  in  them  jets  of  song  indicative  of  the 
highest  poetical  quahty. 

4.  Nature  has  been  most  hberal  of  gifts  to  Lowell. 
He  combines  wit,  humor,  tenderness,  pathos,  vigor,  fire, 
love  of  nature,  and  rich  powers  of  imagination.  He  is 
always  truthful,  hearty,  and  manly,  and  his  wonderfully 
versatile  powers  have  been  used  in  the  cause  of  truth 
and  humanity. 

5.  Read  ^'The  Wind  Harp,"  "Father  Ambrose,"  "The 
Fatherland,"  "The  Vision  of  Sir  Launfal,"  "The  Com- 
memoration OdS." 


57.     THE   FIRST   SNOW-FALL. 

1.  The  snow  had  begun  in  the  gloaming, 

And  busily  aU  the  night, 
Had  been  heaping  field  and  highway 
With  a  silence  deep  and  white. 

2.  Every  pine,  and  fir,  and  hemlock. 

Wore  ermine  too  dear  for  an  earl, 
And  the  poorest  twig  on  the  elm-tree 
Was  ridged  inch-deep  with  pearl. 

3.  From  sheds  new-roofed  with  Carrara 

Came  chanticleer's  mufiied  crow; 
The  stiff  rails  were  softened  to  swan's-down, 
And  still  fluttered  down  the  snow. 

4»   I  stood  and  watched  by  the  window 
The  noiseless  work  of  the  sky, 
And  the  sudden  flurries  of  snow-birds, 
Like  brown  leaves  whirling  by. 


FIFTH    READER.  345 

5.  I  thought  of  a  mound  in  sweet  Auburn, 

Where  a  little  head-stone  stood; 
How  the  flakes  were  folding  it  gently, 
As  did  robins  the  babes  in  the  wood. 

6.  Up  spoke  our  own  little  Mabel, 

Saying,  "Father,  who  makes  it  snow?" 
And  I  told  of  the  good  All-father 
Who  cares  for  us  here  below. 

7.  Again  I  looked  at  the  snow-fall 

And  thought  of  the  leaden  sky, 
That  arched  o'er  our  first  great  sorrow, 
When  that  mound  was  heaped  so  high. 

8.  I  remembered  the  gradual  patience 

That  fell  from  that  cloud  like  snow, 
Flake  by  flake,  healing  and  hiding 
The  scar  of  our  deep-plunged  woe. 

Lowell. 


58.     OLD   CHURCH   BELLS. 

Let  the  class  read  tliis piece  in  concert  after  the  teacher.    Then  require 
the  girls  of  the  class  to  memorize  it  for  recitation. 

1.  Ring  out  merrily. 
Loudly,  cheerily. 

Blithe  old  beUs  from  the  steeple  tower  j 

Hopefully,  fearfuUy, 

JoyfuUy,  tearfuUy, 
Moveth  the  bride  from  the  maiden  bower. 

2.  Clouds  there  are  none  in  the  fair  summer  sky; 
Sunshine  flings  benison  down  from  on  high; 
Children  sing  loud,  as  the  train  moves  along, 
"Happy  the  bride  that  the  sun  shineth  on." 


346  FIFTH    READER. 

3,  Knell  out  drearily, 
Measured  and  wearily, 

Sad  old  bells  from  the  steeple  grayj 

Priests  chanting  lowly; 

Solemnly,  slowly 
Passeth  the  corpse  from  the  portal  to-day. 

4.  Drops  from  the  leaden  clouds  heavily  fall, 
Dripping  all  over  the  plume  and  the  paU; 
Murmur  old  folks  as  the  train  moves  along, 
'^Blessed  the  dead  that  the  rain  raineth  on." 

5,  Toll  at  the  hour  of  prime, 
Matin,  and  vesper  chime; 

Loved  old  beUs  from  the  steeple  high — 

Rolling,  like  holy  waves, 

Over  the  lowly  graves, 
Floating  up,  prayer-fraught,  into  the  sky. 

6,  Solemn  the  lesson  your  lightest  notes  teach; 
Stern  is  the  preaching  your  iron  tongues  preach; 
Ringing  in  life  from  the  bud  to  the  bloom. 
Ringing  the  dead  to  their  rest  in  the  tomb. 

7.  Peal  out  evermore — 
Peal  as  ye  pealed  of  yore, 

Brave  old  bells,  on  each  Sabbath  day; 
In  sunshine  and  gladness. 
Through  clouds  and  through  sadness. 

Bridal  and  burial  have  passed  away. 

8.  TeU  us  life's  pleasures  with  death  are  stiU  rife; 
TeU  us  that  death  ever  leadeth  to  life; 

Life  is  our  labor,  and  death  is  our  rest. 
If  happy  the  hving,  the  dead  are  the  blest. 

Spelling  and  Punctuation.    Dictate  the  first  stanza. 


FIFTH    READER.  347 


59.     CRUSADER   AND   SARACEN. 

[This  extract  is  taken  from  Walter  Scott's  novel  The  Talisman.    Richard  Coeur  de  Lion 
is  the  Christian  knight,  and  Saladin  is  the  Saracen  warrior.] 

1.  The  burning  sun  of  Syria  had  not  yet  attained  its 
highest  point  in  the  horizon,  when  a  knight  of  the  Red 
Cross,  who  had  left  his  distant  northern  home,  and 
joined  the  host  of  the  Crusaders  in  Palestine,  was  pacing 
slowly  along  the  sandy  deserts  which  lie  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  Dead  Sea,  where  the  waves  of  the  Jordan  pour 
themselves  into  an  inland  sea,  from  which  there  is  no 
discharge  of  waters. 

2.  Upon  this  scene  of  desolation  the  sun  shone  with 
almost  intolerable  splendor,  and  all  living  nature  seemed 
to  have  hidden  itself  from  the  rays,  excepting  the  solitary 
figure  which  moved  through  the  flitting  sand  at  a  foot's 
pace,  and  appeared  the  sole  breathing  thing  on  the  wide 
surface  of  the  plain. 

3.  The  dress  of  the  rider,  and  the  accouterments  of 
his  horse,  were  peculiarly  unfit  for  the  traveler  in  such 
a  country.  A  coat  of  linked  mail,  with  long  sleeves, 
plated  gauntlets,  and  a  steel  breastplate,  had  not  been 
esteemed  a  sufficient  weight  of  armor  j  there  was,  also, 
his  triangular  shield  suspended  round  his  neck,  and  his 
barred  helmet  of-  steel,  over  which  he  had  a  hood  and 
collar  of  mail,  which  was  drawn  around  the  warrior's 
shoulders  and  tliroat,  and  filled  up  the  vacancy  between 
the  hauberk  and  the  head-piece.  His  lower  limbs  were 
sheathed,  like  his  body,  in  flexible  mail,  securing  the 
legs  and  thighs,  while  the  feet  rested  in  plated  shoes, 
which  Corresponded  with  the  gauntlets. 

4.  A  long,  broad,  straight-shaped,  double-edged  fal- 
chion, with  a  handle  formed  like  a  cross,  corresponded 
with  a  stout  poniard  on  the  other  side.  The  KJiight 
also  bore,  secured  to  his  saddle,  with  one  end  resting 


348  FIFTH    READER. 

on  his  stirrup,  the  long,  steel-headed  lanee,  his  own 
proper  weapon,  which,  as  he  rode,  projected  backwards, 
and  displayed  its  little  pennoncel,  to  dally  with  the 
faint  breeze,  or  drop  in  the  dead  calm.  To  this  "cum- 
brous equipment  must  be  added  a  surcoat  of  embroidered 
cloth,  much  frayed  and  worn,  which  was  thus  far  use- 
ful, that  it  excluded  the  burning  rays  of  the  sun  from 
the  armor,  which  they  would  otherwise  have  rendered 
intolerable  to  the  wearer. 

5.  The  surcoat  bore,  in  several  places,  the  arms  of 
the  owner,  although  much  defaced.  These  seemed  to 
be  a  couchant  leopard,  with  the  motto,  "I  sleep — wake 
me  not."  An  outline  of  the  same  device  might  be  traced 
on  his  shield,  though  many  a  blow  had  almost  effaced 
the  painting.  The  flat  top  of  his  cumbrous  cylindrical 
helmet  was  unadorned  with  any  crest.  In  retaining 
their  own  unwieldy  defensive  armor,  the  northern  cru- 
saders seemed  to  set  at  defiance  the  nature  of  the  climate 
and  country  to  which  they  were  come  to  war. 

6.  The  accouterments  of  the  horse  were  scarcely  less 
massive  and  unwieldy  than  those  of  the  rider.  The 
animal  had  a  heavy  saddle  plated  with  steel,  uniting 
in  front  with  a  species  of  breastplate,  and  behind  with 
defensive  armor  made  to  cover  the  loins.  Then  there 
was  a  steel  ax,  or  hammer,  called  a  jnace-of-arms,  and 
which  hung  to  the  saddle-bow  j  the  reins  were  secured 
by  chain- work,  and  the  front-stall  of  the  bridle  was  a, 
steel  plate,  with  apertures  for  the  eyes  and  nostrils, 
having  in  the  midst  a  short,  sharp  pike,  projecting  from 
the  forehead  of  the  horse  like  the  horn  of  the  fabulous 
unicorn. 

7.  As  the  Knight  of  the  Couchant  Leopard  continued 
to  fix  his  eyes  attentively  on  the  yet  distant  cluster  of 
palm-trees,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  some  object  was 
moving  among  them.  The  distant  form  separated  itself 
from  the  trees,  which  partly  hid  its  motions,  and  ad- 


FIFTH    READER.  349 

vaneed  towards  the  Knight  with  a  speed  which  soon 
showed  a  mounted  horseman,  whom  his  turban,  long 
spear,  and  green  caftan  floating  in  the  wind,  on  his 
nearer  approach,  proved  to  be  a  Saracen  cavalier.  "In 
the  desert,"  saith  an  Eastern  proverb,  "no  man  meets 
a  friend."  The  Crusader  was  totally  indifferent  whether 
the  infidel,  who  now  approached  on  his  gallant  barb 
as  if  borne  on  the  wings  of  an  eagle,  came  as  friend 
or  foe — ^perhaps,  as  a  vowed  champion  of  the  Cross,  he 
might  rather  have  preferred  the  latter.  He  disengaged 
his  lance  from  his  saddle,  seized  it  with  the  right  hand, 
placed  it  in  rest  with  its  point  haK-elevated,  gathered 
up  the  reins  in  the  left,  waked  his  horse^s  mettle  with 
the  spur,  and  prepared  to  encounter  the  stranger  with 
the  calm  self-confidence  belonging  to  the  victor  in  many- 
contests. 

8.  The  Saracen  came  on  at  the  speedy  gallop  of  an 
Arab  horseman,  managing  his  steed  more  by  his  limbs 
and  the  inflection  of  his  body,  than  by  any  use  of  the 
reins,  which  hung  loose  in  his  left  hand;  so  that  he 
was  enabled  to  wield  the  light  round  buckler  of  the 
skin  of  the  rhinoceros,  ornamented  with  silver  loops, 
which  he  wore  on  his  arm,  swinging  it  as  if  he  meant 
to  oppose  its  slender  circle  to  the  formidable  thrust  of 
the  Western  lance.  His  own  long  spear  was  not  couched 
or  leveled  like  that  of  his  antagonist,  but  grasped  by 
the  middle  with  his  right  hand,  and  brandished  at  arm's 
length  above  his  head.  As  the  cavalier  approached  his 
enemy  at  full  career,  he  seemed  to  expect  that  the 
Knight  of  the  Leopard  would  put  his  horse  to  the 
gallop  to  encounter  him. 

9.  But  the  Christian  knight,  well  acquainted  with  the 
customs  of  Eastern  warriors,  did  not  mean  to  exhaust 
his  good  horse  by  any  unnecessary  exertion;  and,  on 
the  contrary,  made  a  dead  halt,  confident  that  if  the 
enemy  advanced  to  the  actual  shock,  his  own  weight, 


350  FIFTH    READER. 

and  that  of  his  powerful  charger,  would  give  him  suf- 
ficient advantage,  without  the  additional  momentum  of 
rapid  motion.  Equally  sensible  and  apprehensive  of 
such  a  probable  result,  the  Saracen  cavalier,  when  he 
had  approached  toward  the  Christian  within  twice  the 
length  of  his  lance,  wheeled  his  steed  to  the  left  with 
inimitable  dexterity,  and  rode  twice  around  his  antag- 
onist, who,  turning  without  quitting  his  ground,  and 
presenting  his  front  constantly  to  his  enemy,  frustrated 
his  attempts  to  attack  him  on  an  unguarded  point;  so 
that  the  Saracen,  wheeling  his  horse,  was  fain  to  retreat 
to  the  distance  of  a  hundred  yards. 

10.  A  second  time,  like  a  hawk  attacking  a  heron, 
the  Heathen  renewed  the  charge,  and  a  second  time  was 
fain  to  retreat  without  coming  to  a  close  struggle.  A 
third  time  he  approached  in  the  same  manner,  when 
the  Christian  knight,  desirous  to  terminate  this  illusory 
warfare,  in  which  he  might  at  length  have  been  worn 
out  byjihe  activity  of  his  foeman,  suddenly  seized  the 
mace  which  hung  at  his  saddle-bow,  and,  with  a  strong 
hand  and  unerring  aim,  hurled  it  against  the  head  of 
the  Emir;   for  such,  and  not  less,  his  enemy  appeared. 

11.  The  Saracen  was  just  aware  of  the  formidable 
missile  in  time  to  interpose  his  light  buckler  betwixt 
the  mace  and  his  head;  but  the  violence  of  the  blow 
forced  the  buckler  down  on  his  turban,  and  though 
that  defense  also  contributed  to  deaden  its  violence,  the 
Saracen  was  beaten  from  his  horse.  Ere  the  Christian 
could  avail  himself  of  this  mishap,  his  nimble  foeman 
sprang  from  the  gi'ound,  and,  calling  on  his  steed,  which 
instantly  returned  to  his  side,  he  leaped  into  his  seat 
without  touching  the  stirrup,  and  regained  aU  the  ad- 
vantage of  which  the  Knight  of  the  Leopard  had  hoped 
to  deprive  him. 

12.  But  the  latter  had  in  the  meanwhile  recovered 
his  mace,   and  the  Eastern  cavalier,   who  remembered 


FIFTH    READER.  351 

the  strength  and  dexterity  with  which  his  antagonist 
had  aimed  it,  seemed  to  keep  cautiously  out  of  reach 
of  that  weapon,  of  which  he  had  so  lately  felt  the  force; 
while  he  showed  his  purpose  of  waging  a  distant  war- 
fare with  missile  weapons  of  his  own.  Planting  his 
long  spear  in  the  sand  at  a  distance  from  the  scene  of 
combat,  he  strung,  with  great  address,  a  short  bow, 
which  he  carried  at  his  back,  and,  putting  his  horse  to 
the  gallop,  once  more  described  two  or  three  circles  of 
a  wider  extent  than  formerly,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  discharged  six  arrows  at  the  Christian  with  such 
unerring  skill  that  the  goodness  of  his  harness  alone 
saved  him  from  being  wounded  in  as  many  places.  The 
seventh  shaft  apparently  found  a  less  perfect  part  of 
the  armor,  and  the  Christian  dropped  heavily  from  his 
horse. 

13.  But  what  was  the  surprise  of  the  Saracen,  when, 
dismounting  to  examine  the  condition  of  his  prostrate 
enemy,  he  found  himself  suddenly  within  the  grasp  of 
the  European,  who  had  had  recourse  to  this  artifice  to 
bring  his  enemy  within  his  reach.  Even  in  this  deadly 
grapple,  the  Saracen  was  saved  by  his  agility  and  pres- 
ence of  mind.  He  unloosed  the  sword-belt,  in  which 
the  Knight  of  the  Leopard  had  fixed  his  hold,  and  thus 
eluding  his  fatal  grasp,  mounted  his  horse,  which  seemed 
to  watch  his  motions  with  the  intelligence  of  a  human 
being,  and  again  rode  off.  But  in  the  last  encounter 
the  Saracen  had  lost  his  sword  and  his  quiver  of  arrows, 
both  of  which  were  attached  to  the  girdle,  which  he 
was  obliged  to  abandon.  He  had  also  lost  his  turban 
in  the  struggle.  These  disadvantages  seemed  to  incline 
the  Moslem  to  a  truce:  he  approached  the  Christian 
with  his  right  hand  extended,  but  no  longer  in  a  men- 
acing attitude. 

14.  "There  is  truce  betwixt  our  nations,"  he  said,  in 
the  lingua  franca  commonly  used  for  the  purpose  of 


352  FIFTH    READER. 

commimication  with  the  Crusaders;  '^wherefore  should 
there  be  war  betwixt  thee  and  me  ?  Let  there  be  peace 
betwixt  us." 

"I  am  well  contented,"  answered  he  of  the  Couchant 
Leopard;  "but  what  security  dost  thou  offer  that  thou 
wilt  observe  the  truce?" 

"The  word  of  a  follower  of  the  Prophet  was  never 
broken,"  answered  the  Emir.  "It  is  thou,  brave  Naza- 
rene,  from  whom  I  should  demand  security,  did  I  not 
know  that  treason  seldom  dwells  with  courage." 

15.  The  Crusader  felt  that  the  confidence  of  the  Mos- 
lem made  him  ashamed  of  his  own  doubts. 

"By  the  cross  of  my  sword,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand 
on  the  weapon  as  he  spoke,  "I  will  be  true  companion 
to  thee,  Saracen,  while  our  fortune  wills  that  we  remain 
in  company  together." 

"By  Mohammed,  Prophet  of  Grod,  and  by  Allah,  God 
of  the  Prophet,"  replied  his  late  foeman,  "there  is  not 
treachery  in  my  heart  towards  thee.  And  now  wend 
we  to  yonder  fountain,  for  the  hour  of  rest  is  at  hand, 
and  the  stream  had  hardly  touched  my  Up  when  I  was 
called  to  battle  by  thy  approach." 

16.  The  Knight  of  the  Couchant  Leopard  yielded  a 
ready  and  courteous  assent;  and  the  late  foes,  mthout 
an  angry  look  or  gesture  of  doubt,  rode  side  by  side 
to  the  little  cluster  of  palm-trees. 


60.     SUPPLEMENTARY   READING-. 

I.  Let  the  class  read  selections  from  any  other  Fifth 
Readers  in  the  library,  or  from  Supplementary  Readers. 

II.  Read  suitable   selections  from  Longfellow,  Wliit- 
tier.  Holmes,  Irving,  and  Dickens. 

III.  Read,  in  review,  selections  from  Part  I.  of  this 
Reader. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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